


Glory Is Two Steps Away

by Quirmzi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Canon Rewrite, Fluff, Gen, Grand Prix Final, Katsuki Yuuri & Yuri Plisetsky Friendship, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Social Media, Texting, bathroom scene but yuri is nicer, i feel like i should mention that there is very little romance in this, like almost none, this is a simple platonic comedy nothing shady going on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 78,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quirmzi/pseuds/Quirmzi
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuri Katsuki are about as different as cats and dogs, which is to say they have no reason of ever even being acquaintances. Through a stroke of luck, as well as a couple dozen cat pictures, a tight friendship blossoms instead. On their own each skater stands out just fine, but together they shine, pushing each other past previous limits and onto the golden road of victory.Of course, there is still the living legend to worry about, but he's currently too besotted to lace up his skates, so...Or: The Bathroom Scene™, but it goes a little differently. Just enough to that Yuri has a new friend and Victor stays in Russia, but manages to pine all the same.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 947
Kudos: 1087
Collections: Little Red's YoI fics: frozen Library





	1. Bumping, Tumbling, I Want To Be Stronger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri approaches Katsuki, who is sitting alone on a leather sofa in the corner watching his fellow skater mingle amongst themselves. “Hey.”
> 
> Katsuki looks up and him, eyes slightly glazed over, a flute of champagne in his hand. “Yuri! Hi! Boy, do I have a story for you! You know Victor?”
> 
> “Nikiforov? Katsuki, we share a coach.”
> 
> “Yeah yeah yeah, that one. Well, I’m kinda a super big fan of his. Like a huge fan; I’ve seen all his performances and have tons of posters on my wall. Just don’t tell him, okay?”
> 
> “Oh my god Katsuki, just how much have you had to drink?”
> 
> “Just this,” he says as he swirls the pale yellow drink in his hand. “And that. Maybe a little more. Can you tell I’m a bad drunk?”
> 
> “ _Yes._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! School starts today (like, an hour from now) so I don’t know why I’ve decided to go ahead and start a multi chapter fic, but it’s whatever. Please have some leniency with my update schedule; I plan to do my best to update weekly but it really depends on how much work I’ll get not only from school but my extracurriculars.
> 
> Here we go!
> 
> Slightly edited!
> 
> If you're a new reader, welcome! Feel free to catch up and comment your reactions to the existing chapters; it's very fun to watch someone read through my story in what is essentially real time. No pressure if you don't feel comfortable, just enjoy!

Yuri slams the door shut behind him, stomping over to a closed bathroom stall. From inside, soft Japanese can be heard, as well as the occasional sob.

Scowling, Yuri kicks the door, pushing it aside to reveal a young Asian man clutching his phone close to his chest, tears sliding down from his red eyes. He’s wearing a black jacket with blue accents a couple of shades lighter than the blue glasses on his face.

The man opens his mouth to speak, but Yuri beats him to it. “What kind of shit performance was that? Let me make one thing clear, there’s only enough room for one Yuri here, and it sure as hell isn’t going to be you! With a performance like that, why don't you just retire already?!”

“I-i’m sorry, it’s just that…” the man trails off, murmuring to himself before nervously shifting his eyes back to Yuri.

“There’s no excuse for skating _that_ badly! Unless someone was murdered, I don’t want to hear it!” 

The man flinches, looking as if he was going to cry again. “Well, my dog died. He is— _was_ very energetic, and he was chasing a ball onto the street when a car came by. I couldn’t focus during the free skate, so... well, you saw what happened.”

Yuri flinches, jerking his shoulders away from the man in front of him. The words on the tip of his tongue no longer wanted to come out, and for once he doesn’t know what to say. When asked, most people blubber and place the blame on petty things, not something like _death_. He can feel his chest start to ache in sympathy, but tries to toss it aside.

“Why are you here then?” Yuri growls. “Shouldn’t you be mourning them or something?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint my family. They’re all cheering for me, and this was my first Grand Prix Final.”

“Though,” the man laughs, humorless and dark. “I guess that ended up happening anyway.”

He turns his head to the side, avoiding Yuri’s eyes. His fingers get drawn towards each other and twist in a way that looks painful. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You’re Yuri Plitsetsky, right? Congratulations on your gold.”

Once again, Yuri is taken aback. “You know who I am?”

“Why wouldn’t I know? You dominated in juniors, and rumor has it you plan to move to seniors next season.”

“I am.”

“I thought so. You seem advanced enough to compete with them.”

_Unlike me._

The words go unsaid, but Yuri hears them, clear as day. He squats down next to the other man, careful to not touch the floor, and pulls out his phone from his jacket’s front pocket.

“Look.”

Yuri all but shoves his phone into the other’s face. The screen shows a picture of his grandfather and cat. Both are looking at the camera, Desushka with a smile on his face and Potya in his arms. Yuri swipes to reveal another picture of his cat. And then another. And another.

“Um... I don’t really get what you’re trying to imply here?” 

Yuri sighs. “This is Puma Tiger Scorpion.”

“That’s… a cool name.”

“Yes, it is. My point is that I get you. Of course, if it were me I’d still win, but that’s because the other juniors are useless.”

“Useless?”

“None of them can do quads properly, and yet think they’re so amazing. That’s beside the point. What I’m _trying_ to say is that you’ll be okay, Katsuki. You had an unforeseen circumstance and messed up; this isn’t precedent.”

Yuuri Katsuki looks at him with a bitter smile on his face, dark hair framing eyes with a cold yet polite look. “Easy for you to say. You have potential; I’m just a dime-a-dozen skater. I can barely know how to jump properly while Victor Nikiforov is doing quad flips at the same competition.”

“Trust me, Victor just knows how to do tricks, like a dog.” Yuri scoffs. “Your jumps may be absolute shit but your spins are still better than his.”

“Really?”

“And... I guess I liked your step sequences.”

Katsuki seems to brighten up at that. “My coach let me and my old ballet teacher choreograph it together! It’s my favorite part.”

“My coach gets his ex-wife to help him choreograph our step sequences.”

“You get step sequences from _Lilia Baranoskaya_!?”

They continue to chat, the topic shifting from skating to animals to meaningless facts about themselves. Over time, Katsuki slowly relaxes and becomes more engaged. By the time they exit the stall, his face isn’t as puffed up anymore, and the red rimming his eyes has faded to reveal a certain air of lightness in them instead. 

“Thanks for talking with me, I really appreciate it!” Katsuki smiles as he splashes cold water on his face. The water drips down onto his team Japan jacket, and Yuri hands him a paper towel. 

“You’re better company than the rest of my team, so it’s no big deal,” Yuri grumbles, not used to the positive attention he was receiving. People didn’t usually like his company; he was too brash, too angry, too young. And yet, this quiet, unassuming Japanese skater had not only tolerated but actually enjoyed their conversation.

“Are you going to the banquet tonight?” Yuri asks, crossing his fingers in hope inside of his jacket. Yakov was forcing him to attend, insisting on something about building connections and interacting with other skaters. There would definitely be drunk, exhausted skaters hyped up on adrenaline and caffeine, and there was nothing Yuri could do about it other than avoid them and look for someone to keep him company.

“Yeah, my coach is making me.” Katsuki sighs, dabbing away the last drops of water from his cheeks. “Plus, it wouldn’t look good if I didn’t show.”

“Then, we’ll just hang out together.” Yuri declares. “It’ll be fun.”

Katsuki looks at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. “I thought this was an event for the seniors. And aren’t you a minor? Why are you allowed to attend a party with alcohol?”

Yuri shrugs. “I’m Russian, and more importantly, training under Yakov. Being a part of the Living Legend’s team has its perks.”

\- - - -

When Yuri arrives, trying to loosen the tie Yakov did for him (Yakov had finally had enough of him and was trying to strangle him, that was the only logical reason why this tie was so damn _tight_ ), the party had just begun.

Yuri approaches Katsuki, who is sitting alone on a leather sofa in the corner watching his fellow skaters mingle amongst themselves. “Hey.”

Katsuki looks up at him, eyes slightly glazed over with a flute of champagne in his hand. “Yuri! Hi! Boy, do I have a story for you! You know Victor?”

“Nikiforov? Katsuki, we share a coach.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, that one. Well, I’m kinda a super big fan of his. Like a huge fan; I’ve seen all his performances and have tons of posters on my wall.” Using his other hand, Katsuki hovers his pointer finger in front of his lips, the others curled up into a fist. “Just don’t tell him, okay? It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“What the— Katsuki, just how much have you had to drink?”

“Just this,” he says as he swirls the pale yellow drink in his hand. “And that. Maybe a little more. Can you tell I’m a bad drunk?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“You can’t blame me, you weren’t here and I got bored. Then I got sad, and there was nothing to do but drink my sorrows away! Anyways!” Katsuki downs the rest of his drink in one go before setting it aside. Yuri watches in morbid fascination, feeling as if he should do something. Katsuki plays with his off-blue tie, absentmindedly giggling to himself.

“What was I talking about? Oh yes, Victor! I spotted him, and I wanted to congratulate him on his win, and his amazing choreo, and his jumps, and his—”

“Alright, we get it, you’re a fanboy. What’s the point of this?”

Katsuki continues to giggle, rocking back and forth. “So I went up to him, but I was kind of tongue-tied because it’s Victor, and he’s so perfect and handsome and you know I named my dog after him?”

“Yes Katsuki, you told me only a couple of hours ago.”

“Oh, okay! Moving on, I couldn’t say anything and he turns around and looks at me and smiles at me, and I’m floating on clouds right now but then he opens his mouth.”

Katsuki sighs, waving around his hand flippantly. “It would’ve been perfect if only he hadn’t said anything. But no, he goes and opens his stupid mouth. Handsome, but stupid.”

Oh. _Oh_. Yuri knows where this is going. After all, he had been there, standing behind Victor when this happened. He can only hope Katsuki’s retelling does the ridiculousness of the situation justice.

“He said, _‘A commemorative photo? Sure!’_ ” While imitating Victor, Katsuki’s voice gets deeper, and he adds a somewhat vaguely Russian accent.

After Katsuki says this, he buries his face in his hands, letting out a groan. “A fan! That’s all I am to him. There were only six of us! Surely I wasn’t that terrible.”

Yuri tries to stifle his laughs, shrugging when Katsuki half-heartedly glares at him. Although Katsuki’s imitation of Victor was about to allow Yuri to die happy, he also looks like he’s about to cry, and Yuri can’t help but feel a little bad.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think he knows the names of some of our rink mates. I mean, they don’t train under Yakov, but we still see them almost every day.”

“At least he knows they’re skaters!”

Without meaning to, Yuri finally starts laughing, and Katsuki looks at him with an expression of utter betrayal. 

“Yuri!” he whines, throwing himself back down onto the couch. “It’s not funny!”

“No, it’s just that, Victor once thought they were a part of the _ice maintenance crew_.” Yuri explains. “So technically, he barely realizes that they’re skaters.”

Katsuki pouts, crossing his arms. “That’s so mean! Why would he do something like that?”

“Does this mean you’re going to join the anti-Victor club?”

“That’s a great idea!” Katsuki jumps up and waves a waiter over, taking yet another flute of champagne from them. 

“Really?”

“I just need to get him to notice me! Yuri, you’re a genius!”

“Of course I’m a geni— what did you just say?”

Katsuki tilts his head and knocks back the entire glass. “I’m going to approach him. Here, you can be my backup.”

“ _Backup?_ ”

“Give me your phone.”

Yuri hesitates, and Katsuki makes an impatient noise, holding out his hand and making a grabbing gesture. “C’mon, I won’t bite.”

Reluctantly, Yuri hands over his phone, and Katsuki types something into it. “There! Now you can call me! It’ll be like walkie talkies!”

“Katsuki, I don’t think—”

“Alright, wish me luck!”

Yuri watches Katsuki stumble away confidently, this time knowing he should do something. Anything. There was a blossoming friendship forming between him and Katsuki, and Yuri was pretty sure friends didn’t let friends drunkenly seduce their celebrity crush who had no idea they were a fellow competitor.

But, he doesn’t do anything. Instead, he whips out his phone and pulls up the camera app, aiming it in the direction Katsuki went. He clicks record video, and then silently screams to himself whenever Katsuki does something embarrassing.

Well, at least Victor looks properly enamored. Mission successful?

(The next morning when Victor, hungover and in love, starts to continually blabber about “Yuuri’s legs and his eyes and his _pole dance_ —”, Yuri will conclude that this mission was perhaps a bit _too_ successful.)

\- - - -

Yuuri wakes up to a pounding headache and no recollection of what happened last night. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He remembers talking to Yuri, then leaving the teen to go somewhere else. Other than that, it’s a complete blur.

Lucky for him, he gets a text while in the airport that confirms his worst nightmare.

_Unknown: last night was wild_

_Unknown: this is yuri btw_

Clutching onto his backpack strap tightly, Yuuri is almost afraid to ask what he is about to type out.

_Yuuri: What happened?_

_Yuri Plitsetsky: you don’t remember_

_Yuuri: Whenever I drink, I blackout._

_Yuri Plitsetsky: this is gold_

_Yuri Plitsetsky: (sent image)_

Yuuri clicks on the picture, then immediately turns off his phone, willing himself not to scream out loud. Yuri sent a picture of him, pantless with his tie wrapped around his head, a leg wrapped around a stripper pole, laughing at something off-screen. Where did the stripper pole come from? Yuuri walked into that venue sober, he knows for a fact that there isn’t a stripper pole there.

_Yuuri: WHAT?!_

_Yuri Plitsetsky: my thoughts exactly_

_Yuri Plitsetsky: you really don’t remember anything???_

_Yuuri: Just that we talked for a bit._

_Yuuri: Why?_

_Yuuri: Should I be concerned??_

_Yuri Plitsetsky: don’t worry about it_

That does nothing to quell Yuuri’s worries. If anything, he’s even more concerned, wringing out his hands in his lap. Now he’s sure he did something dumb. But how dumb exactly? He was sure Yuri knew, but would never tell him.

Sighing, Yuuri slowly follows the rest of the passengers onto the plane. At least he’s going home now; he plans to soak in the hot springs until he prunes, eat his mother’s katsudon until he’s round, and cry into his pillow until he falls unconscious. It’ll be oddly soothing, and Yuuri will be creeped out that he finds it oddly soothing. Most importantly, however, it will be routine, and Yuuri will know exactly what’s going on at all moments.

\- - - -

Yuri is very close to kicking Victor in the face right now, “Living Legend” be damned.

“When do you think he’ll text me? What should I say in return? What if he doesn’t like poodles? Should I censor our first meeting for our future children?”

Yuri, surprisingly and reluctantly, knows the answers to all those questions. (He’ll never text you, this is non-applicable because of the previous answer, he loves poodles, and, well…)

“I don’t think you’ll need to censor your first meeting.” Yuri snickers. Yakov casts him a questioning look, having also experienced the banquet disaster first hand. Yuri shoots back a glare that he’s pretty sure conveys how stupid he thought the two of them are.

“You’re right! I shouldn’t censor true love! Yuri, I never knew you were such a romantic.” Victor coos, looking extremely delighted.

Yuri’s about to start cackling like a witch with an agenda, but he manages to hold it in. “No, it’s not that.”

“Huh?” Victor asks, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Yuri sucks in a deep breath. “ _‘A commemorative photo? Sure!’_ ” Unlike Katsuki, who had lowered his voice, Yuri’s imitation of Victor involved a lot of high pitched squealing.

Victor’s dumbstruck expression was the final straw in the coffin. Yuri doubles over laughing, pointing a finger at Victor.

“H-he, I said that to him? When? I thought he was a skater?”

“He is! You just thought he was one of your fangirls!”

“You’re joking! You’re just jealous that I found love and you didn’t.”

“Yakov, tell him I’m not lying!”

Yakov thinks about it, scratching the top of his head. Then, his face slowly morphs to house a stern expression. “Yura’s right. I remember that encounter. Katsuki looked a bit upset after you spoke to him. Then I told you he was a skater and you said, _‘Oh, like an amateur one’_ , and _‘He’s copying me, that’s so cute’_.”

Victor looks overly distraught by now, as if he just learned his lover died, and grabs Yakov’s arm, shaking it violently. “I can’t believe this! He must hate me! What can I do to earn his forgiveness?”

Yuri continues to laugh under his breath and takes a picture of Victor’s face, sending it to Katsuki, who responds immediately.

_Yuri: (sent image)_

_Yuuri Katsuki: Is he okay? Does he need help?_

_Yuri: nothing_

_Yuri: he’s just being stupid_

“For the last time, Vitya, the boy doesn’t hate you! Why would he dance with you if he hated you?”

Victor perks up, letting go of a relieved Yakov’s arm to clap his hands together. “You’re right! Maybe he’s forgotten about the whole thing.”

Yuri scoffs, kicking his legs up to rest on the seat’s arms. “Try the other way around.”

“What was that? Speak up Yuri, I couldn’t hear you.”

“Nothing, you’re just an old man who’s hard of hearing. Good luck in your pursuits of love. Trust me, you’ll need it.”

Victor beams at him. “Thank you for all your encouragement! Do you think it’d be too much if I flew to Japan?”

“Vitya, if you even dare leave St.Petersburg without my permission, I’ll find you and skin you alive!”

Yuri rolls his eyes, digging out his earbuds to plug into his phone. The sound of heavy metal fills his ears, drowning out the argument happening in front of him.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a confession to make: I've never seen the banquet photos. I peeked once and they gave me way to much second-hand embarrassment. Sorry!
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> (future author here: remember when I had short end notes? haha, imagine that)


	2. Even If It's Just Little, It's Still A Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thanks for the pep talk.”
> 
> “Whatever. Go skate; I’m going to bother Yakov.”
> 
> “Please don’t. I feel bad for him.”
> 
> “You’ve never met him.”
> 
> “I've been told enough. Plus, I've met you, haven’t I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Posting this a little later than I would like to, but it's a longer chapter, so I think it balances out. Please enjoy!
> 
> Edited but grammar is still a social construct. Fun fact for those re-reading/coming in late: I edited this on my phone till just before the end and then chrome timed out on me and refreshed. Very fun.

The first thing Yuuri hears is a string of Russian curses; having picked up the language from his multitude of conversations with a certain Russian skater, Yuuri winces as the words translate from Russian to English to Japanese in a split second.

“Yuri, please calm down.”

Said teenager barks out one last insult before turning his attention back to Yuuri. “It’s not my fault Victor’s being an idiot.”

“You say that every week.” Yuuri sighs, more fond than exasperated, even while Yuri disses his idol.

Some time has passed since his disaster at Sochi, and Yuuri has been hiding away in Hatsetsu, stress eating and wondering if it was too late for him to take up Minako’s offer to do professional ballet. Given, it has been over a decade, but Yuuri’s stayed in shape. Mostly. Over the past few weeks, he’s put on a couple of pounds, but it’s nothing compared to what he could’ve gained had his newfound friend not been by his side yelling at him to go for a run every day.

The two of them have been texting and calling nonstop, giving Yuuri less time to wallow around in his own self-pity. Surprisingly, Yuri likes to call, once he warms up to you that is. He talks enough for a person and a half, filling in the cracks when Yuuri doesn’t have the social capacity to hold a conversation.

“I’m going to slice him with my knife shoes!” Yuri growls. From the familiar background noise, Yuuri can guess that Yuri’s once again snuck his phone onto the ice rink, not that the skater was supposed to be on the ice anyway.

“I thought you said it was Victor’s turn for the full rink? What are you skating for?”

Yuri scoffs. “I finally got him to fulfill his stupid promise. He’s showing me the choreo he planned, but the song’s complete shit. It’s way too sappy.”

“I think anything that isn’t punk rock is too sappy for you.” Yuuri chuckles.

They catch up on what little they haven’t told each other about their day yet. Yuuri speaks about helping his mother cook, and Yuri complains some more about his rink mates. Suddenly, the subject gets changed to something Yuuri had been trying to avoid.

“So why weren’t you at Worlds?”

Yuuri flinches, although no one is here to see it. “Well, I didn’t qualify, Plus, I’ve been thinking about taking a break. Now that I’ve graduated, I could go and get my masters or help my parents run the onsen.”

Silence. Even the blades have stopped scraping across the ice. Then Yuuri hears Yuri take in a deep breath.

“What did you just say?”

“I’m taking a break?”

“No, you’re not. Why break now? You still have multiple years left.”

“Yuri, I completely flunked the Grand Prix.”

From the other side of the phone, Yuri lets out a frustrated noise. The scraping sounds start up again, and Yuuri can practically see Yuri doing what is essentially the equivalent of pacing back and forth, but on ice. “So what? Just because you messed up once, does that mean you’ll do it again?”

“Weren’t you the one who said I should retire?” Yuuri teases, leaning back on the headboard of his bed.

“That was before I went and found your other programs. You’re a good skater, no matter what you think.”

“I'm really not.” Yuuri tries to protest, to no avail.

“At least start seriously skating again? Don’t think I didn’t notice. You’ve grown all soft and puffy.”

"Soft and puffy?"

"Like a marshmallow. I bet you haven't gone to the rink today, have you?"

Yuuri doesn't say anything, choosing instead to glance over at his open closet where his gym bag lays.

"Katsudon," Yuri says, a nickname given to him based on Yuuri's love for pork cutlet bowls. "If you don't throw yourself onto the ice right now, I will do it for you."

"But—"

" _Go._ "

Yuuri lets out a laugh, pulling himself out of bed to grab the duffel bag containing his skates. “Alright, I’ll go to the rink today.”

“You better.” Yuri huffs, sounding every bit like the fifteen-year-old he is. “I told you to skate someone’s program last month, and I still stand by that.”

“I don’t know…Why do you want me to copy someone else?”

“Because people win with those. You need to up your confidence. If you can skate like them, you can win like them.”

That...that was such a _Yuri_ way of thinking that it almost made Yuuri laugh. He smiles, feeling oddly reassured. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Whatever. Go skate; I’m going to bother Yakov.”

“Please don’t. I feel bad for him.”

“You’ve never met him.”

“I've been told enough. Plus, I've met you, haven’t I?”

\- - - -

As soon as Yuuri walks into Hasetsu Ice Castle, he’s hit with a sense of familiarity that all ice rinks seem to have for him. He goes up to the front desk and nearly knocks Yuuko over.

“Yuuri!” she squeals, dropping the papers she was golding to reach out and hug him. This has been a common occurrence ever since he came back, Yukko claiming that she was making up for lost time when Yuuri was in America and too busy with college and practice to return back home.

“Hi Yuuko!” he lets out, wiggling out of her grasp just enough to return the favor and hug her back.

She lets go of him to pick up the fallen papers. Glancing at it, there seems to be an equal mix of official documents and coloring pages. “Where have you been? We’ve been expecting you at the rink as soon as we opened.”

He gives her a sheepish grin, fiddling with the straps of his gym bag. “I kind of chickened out today. But it’s okay! A friend of mine convinced me to come back.”

“Not-Phichit?” At first, everyone in Hatsetsu thought he was calling and texting Phichit, he being the only friend that Yuuri had in college. Yuuri realized their mistake and hastily corrected them, telling them about Yuri. However, using both names was confusing, so they gave Yuri the nickname “Not-Phichit", a call-back to who they thought he originally was.

Yuuri nods. “Who else would it be?”

“Maybe you psyched yourself up by staring at your Victor posters; it’s happened before.” Yuuko shrugs, much to Yuuri’s rapidly growing embarrassment.

“Yuuko!”

“Kidding, I’m kidding! You’ll have to thank him for me then. Takeshi is watching the triplets right now, but it’s almost his turn to man the rink.”

“I hope he brings the triplets over.” The last time Yuuri had seen Yuuko’s daughters in person, they were still babies, not old enough to properly remember him. “Uh, is the rink occupied?”

“Nope! Go ahead, it’s all yours till closing time!”

“Thanks, Yuuko.”

His friend smiles, reaching out to pat him on the back. “You know you're always welcomed here, Yuuri.”

Yuuri warms up in the changing room, lacing up his skates with quick accuracy. Stepping onto the clean ice feels as simple as walking. Yuuri skates a few laps around the rink, does a couple of singles and doubles, and finally feels inspired enough to listen to Yuri’s advice. The question now is, which program should he try?

There was always Victor’s Stammi Vicino routine that won him his fifth consecutive gold. Yuuri’s been copying his routines since Victor was a junior skater, and learning Stammi Vicino seemed inevitable. But he didn’t feel confident enough to pull it off, and messing up Victor’s routine was the last thing he wanted to do.

There was something else he had been practicing recently… It was fun to learn and to skate, and it paid tribute to one of the people Yuuri desperately needed to thank for keeping him sane throughout his fallout.

His mind made up, Yuuri skates over to where he left his phone, hooking it up to the rink’s Bluetooth system. He wasn’t quite good enough to do it without music yet. The beginning of the song fills the room, and Yuuri gets into position, executing the routine almost perfectly. 

Some elements are changed: the step sequence, for one. Yuuri can never manage to follow someone else’s step sequence is he thought of something he liked better. The jumps are different as well; some of the triples get turned into quads, and the doubles into triples. Yuuri still is, for the most part, a competing senior skater, and does have some shreds of dignity he’d like to keep. Yuri might have not been allowed to do quads, but Yuuri needs them just to qualify.

In his head, he sends a silent apology to the choreographer in case he completely messed up the meaning behind the routine by changing it.

When the music stops, it is instantly replaced by the sound of clapping hands. Yuuri turns around to see Lutz, Loop, and Axel applauding for him, Yuuko’s phone balanced dangerously on the barrier separating ice and land.

“That was great, Yuuri!”

“Is that your new program?”

“Oh, no, no, no!” Yuuri frantically waves his hands around, feeling flustered from the praise he was receiving. “It’s actually from last season’s junior division.”

Axel hums in consideration, grabbing Yuuko’s phone and typing something on it. “Plisetsky, right? He won gold last time and is moving into seniors this season.”

“How do you know that?” Lutz asks.

“You two would know too if you guys watched the JGPF with me.”

“But the seniors are much more handsome!”

“The juniors are cute too. Speaking of juniors, why do you know Plisetsky’s free skate, Yuuri?”

All three pairs of eyes turn to him, and Yuuri feels a cold sweat run down the back of his neck. “Well, I wanted to practice with something that I would feel comfortable doing. When I thought of doing other people’s routines, I imagined not being able to do it as well and being disappointed. But with Yuri, it doesn’t matter as much whether or not I did well.”

Lutz nods in approval. “Mama said that Not-Phichit was your friend, but we never really believed it up till now.”

“Huh?” Yuuri blinks, looking at the three of them in confusion. “Why?”

“Well, Plisetsky’s very aggressive. We thought that if you two were friends, he'd eat you.”

“Trust me, Yuri’s mostly bark with just a little bite. He’s not half as bad as you think if you go and talk to him.” Yuuri recalls their first meeting and the poor stall door that got kicked down. "Well, so long as you don’t make him mad.”

Axel, who had continued to stare at Yuuko’s phone, suddenly looks up and grins. “Looks like Papa wants to go back. Loop, did you remember to put back the crayons?”

“Um… no.”

Sighing, Axel turns off Yuuko's phone and puts it in her jacket’s pocket. “That’s probably why Mama’s so mad. C’mon, let's go.”

Seeing 3 six-year-olds walk off by themselves, Yuuri can’t help but be a bit concerned. “Do you want me to come with you guys?”

Lutz waves him off. “It’s okay! We’ve been wandering through this town for years.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“It’ll be fine. You’ve lived in Hasetsu before; no one's gonna kidnap us.”

“If you say so…”

As Yuuri watches the triplets leave, he can’t help but get a sinking feeling in his gut, as if he had missed his chance to prevent something disastrous.

\- - - -

Turns out, you should always trust your gut instinct. Yuuri, who had just come back from a lovely dinner with his parents and Minako, sinks into his bed, looking up at his posters in shock. The multitude of Victors smilebback at him, which usually provides him some form of comfort, but now just makes him panic even more.

Because his cover of Yuri’s free skate had just been given to the cruel and unforgiving hands of the internet, and there was a possibility that Victor, or even _Yuri_ , would see it.

“I’m so sorry Yuuri!” Yuuko cries, speaking to him through her phone, the same phone that Axel had recorded and posted his routine from. 

“It’s okay! I’m just a small skater, so he’ll never see it anyway! It’s not like it’ll gain much traction.”

"Yeah, about that..."

"Yukko?"

“Have you actually checked the video?”

“Yuuko, why would I watch myself skate?” Yuuri laughs, almost hysterically. The same gut feeling he got when he watched the triplets walk away had returned, and he knew now to be wary.

“It’s trending?”

" _It's what?_ "

After a silent pause where Yuuri screams in his head, he asks Yuuko with a false sense of calm: “Are you kidding me? You’re pulling my leg, right?”

“Check for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“Yuuko, you’re _scaring_ me.” Yuuri hisses out, feeling a pooling sense of dread.

From the other side, Yuuri can hear shouting and a call for help in the background. Yuuko lets out a sigh, covering the phone’s speakers so that Yuuri can only hear a muffled yell back. 

“Listen, I have to go now. Everything will be fine. I need you to just breathe.”

“Breathe, breathe, okay, I can do that.”

Yuuri hangs up and moves over to his laptop, opening it up and typing in “Yuuri Katsuki” before he can regret it. It feels egotistical of him to search up his own name, and Yuuri briefly wonders if this was what JJ does off-season.

The first video that pops up has a thumbnail of him inside the Ice Palace with himself positioned in the starting pose for Yuri’s routine. It’s already amassed a hundred thousand views just hours after posting it, and Yuuri dreads to look at the view count tomorrow. 

He doesn’t click on the video; just knowing that it’s up in that terrifying cloud where nothing can truly be deleted once it exists is enough nightmare fuel for him. He doesn’t need to go and read the comments and make himself feel even worse.

Sighing, Yuuri shuts off his laptop and crawls into bed, shoving his face into a pillow and praying to the skating gods that Yuri, in all his tech-savviness, doesn’t find the video.

\- - - -

He finds the video.

Yuri watches from his phone screen as Yuuri performs a quad toe loop he knows is supposed to be a triple. The skater moves into his step sequence, and not only is it different, it’s also _better_.

It’s the first time Yuri’s skate routine has been covered (they were too hard for amateur juniors and no senior wanted to skate a junior’s program), and by Yuuri, no less. Yuri feels proud, one because Yuuri actually listened to him and because it was _Yuri's_ program he chose. But why would Yuuri put it up online?

A quick look at the description explains that Yuuri actually had no idea the video was being uploaded in the first, which makes a lot of sense. Suddenly, Yuri's phone buzzes and he opens it to see a text from Yuuri.

_Katsudon: Good morning!_

_Yuri: good afternoon. i saw your cover of my freeskate_

_Katsudon: You saw nothing._

_Yuri: i liked it_

_Katsudon: Really?_

_Yuri: yeah, it proves my point_

_Yuri: you could probably get silver_

_Katsudon: What about gold?_

_Yuri: that’s mine_

_Yuri: and everyone else can place last for all i care_

_Katsudon: Yuri!_

_Yuri: i’m not sorry_

_Yuri: will you help me with my spins today_

_Katsudon: Of course! You’ve improved a lot in such a short time._

_Yuri: of course i did_

Yuri saves the video to his phone and vows never to show this to Victor, lest he starts crying that Yuuri likes him more than him. To be fair, he does, but Victor doesn’t have to whine about it every day.

It's a blessing he doesn’t know about their back and forth messaging. If he did, Yuri just might never hear the end of it.

\- - - -

“Does he seem happier to you, or am I going crazy?” Mila asks, pointing at the small blonde furiously typing on his phone.

“You’re just crazy,” Georgi replies. “He looks mad.”

“No, that’s his happy face. Victor, what do you think? Victor?”

Said man was currently enamored with whatever was happening on his own phone. He waves aside Mila, not even bothering to look up from what he was watching. “Yeah, he looks happy, I guess.”

“You aren’t even looking.”

“But what’s got him so chipper?” Georgi strokes his chin, deep in thought. “Maybe he’s got a lover?”

Mila hits him on the top of his head, which Georgi tries to block to little success. “It’s obviously whoever he’s been talking to every day. Every time his phone rings he rushes to get it.” 

“But I want a name! We should do some snooping. Victor, go and find out who Yuri’s been texting.”

“Huh?” Finally, the silver-haired skater turns to look at Georgi and Mila. “Why me?”

“Because he’s less likely to murder you. Hurry, he’s getting back on the ice. Now’s your chance!” Mila pushes him towards Yuri’s belongings, not giving Victor the time to protest.

Victor slowly creeps over to Yuri’s phone, which was lying innocently on the bench, still turned on and opened to a messenger app. Yuri’s named this person “Katsudon”, which is either the strangest name Victor’s heard or a nickname.

Oddly enough, it sounds Japanese instead of Russian, which is enough for Victor to scroll through their latest messages.

“Last place...gold and silver...Yuri likes something… ‘I saw your cover of my free skate.’ Oh, Yuri has fans! Wait a moment…”

Victor’s mind flashes back to the video he had played on repeat ever since he found it, of a beautiful Japanese man skating and improving on Yuri’s free skate. Pouting, he drags his feet back to his rink mates, who are watching him in anticipation.

“Well? Who is it?” Georgi asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Victor sulks, grabbing his jacket before slinking away, stepping onto the ice in order to bother Yuri.

“Victor? Victor, come back!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I have some questions:  
> 1\. Would you rather I use Viktor or continue using Victor?  
> 2\. Is the texting scene alright? Should I include both usernames instead of only the other person's?
> 
> Feel like I should clarify: Yuuri refers to Victor as Victor instead of Nikiforov because he thinks if Victor more as a public figure. In the previous chapter, Yuri uses Katsuki because he hasn't been following Yuuri and his career all his life.


	3. To Light Up A Hesitating Friend’s Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve got no control in your routines. He picks the music for you, he choreographs it for you. Normally, that would be fine, coaches collaborate with their skater all the time. But you aren’t adding anything to it. Not only are you too scared to confront him, but he also doesn’t trust you to change it properly. You need a coach who will have faith in you, otherwise, you’re screwed.”
> 
> “Oh, oh!” Victor’s raising his hand as if he were a child waiting to be called on in class. “I could coach him! It would be fun. I would visit Japan and see the ninja towers!”
> 
> “Victor, if you do not leave my sight in 10 seconds, your face is going to be scarred in a way that you would not like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! Today's chapter mainly serves as a transition between arcs with a ridiculous amount of dialogue thrown in. We're headed for the Japanese qualifiers soon!
> 
> Edited! There were a lot of past tense words that needed to be changed, rip.

“So when you arrive at Barcelona, I’ll come find you, and we’ll—”

“Barcelona? Why are we going to Barcelona?”

Yuri huffs, not pleased at being interrupted. “Have you not heard? The Grand Prix Finale is being held in Barcelona this season.”

Nervously, Yuuri lets out a little laugh. “Yuri, you know I’m not participating in this year’s Grand Prix, right?”

“What?! Why?!” Yuri wants to scream, but a glance to his left shows Yakov giving him a glare which warns him that if he screams, he’ll most likely be booted out of the rink.

“Well... there really isn’t a reason. I mean, there is, but it’s kind of stupid.”

“So you know it’s stupid.”

“Yuri…”

“It’s my first season! Are you going to leave me alone with people like JJ and Victor?”

Said silver-haired skater perks up when he hears his name called. He skates over to the barrier Yuri is resting on and leans in. “Are you talking to Yuuri Katsuki? Did you mention me?”

“Oh my god, _get a life._ ” Yuri groans.

“What?”

“Not you, Katsudon, I’m talking to the old man in front of me. But you should also get a life. Maybe, I don’t know, join the Grand Prix this year?”

Victor, who hasn't moved an inch since Yuri tried to shoo him away, widens his eyes and grips the barrier, looking all too concerned about someone he didn’t even know was a fellow skater until they practically lap-danced on him. “He’s not skating this season? Why?”

“It’s none of your business,” Yuri growls, wishing the wall between them would disappear so he could kick Victor out of the rink. He aims the water bottle in his hand at Victor, who ducks down in response. 

“Even if you did convince me—” Yuuri starts.

“Good to know that I have.”

“I said even if.”

“And I know that translates to ‘yes, of course, Yuri, you’re so smart and amazing’.”

“Of course it does.” Yuuri laughs. “But I still don’t have a coach.”

Yuri nearly chokes on the water he's drinking, letting out a series of harsh coughs. Victor gives him a couple of rough pats on the back. Clearly the man doesn’t know his own strength; that, or he wants to kill Yuri in order to steal his phone so he can seduce Yuuri.

“Yuri? Are you okay?” Yuuri asks, sounding slightly panicked. Good, let him worry himself. Yuri hopes the Japanese skater knows that he is currently Yuri’s main source of stress.

“Yeah, I’m fine. My hearing must be off because I know you did not just say that you don’t have a coach. What about Celestino?”

“I, uh…” Here, Yuuri trails off, letting the silence hang for a few seconds before quietly finishing his sentence. “I may or may not have been avoiding his calls? And him in general?”

Yuri turns to look at Yakov once more, who is eyeing him and Victor with suspicion in his eyes. As much as his coach annoys him with his " _juniors don’t do quads_ ” bullshit, Yuri knows that if he wants to compete and do well, he’s going to have to stick with him. To have not been contacting his coach the entire time, Yuuri’s decision to take a break was obviously planned a long time before Yuri had even heard about it.

“Okay, this is fine. We can work with this.” Yuri sighs. Honestly, at times like this, he feels like the responsible one. Which he wasn’t, not by a long shot, but he has his moments.

“We can?” Yuuri sounds skeptical, which he really shouldn’t. Yuri didn’t pull a bunch of all-nighters obsessively watching his friend’s old routines to not know the ins and outs about his skating.

“I’m not saying you should break it off, but something needs to be said before.” Yuri takes a deep breath, tries to wave Victor away one last time, lest he snitches on him to Yakov, and says: “Look, he’s not a bad coach. I’m sure he’s great. Chulanont, he’s doing just fine with him. But he’s got too many skaters, and he doesn’t hone in on the small things. What you need is a coach who will pay attention to you, who will point out every flaw in your routine no matter how irrelevant it seems. You mess up once and it’s game over for you, so you need to focus on nailing your routines.”

Yuri can feel Yuuri thinking and pushes on. “You’ve got no control in your routines. He picks the music for you, he choreographs it for you. Normally, that would be fine, coaches collaborate with their skater all the time. But you aren’t adding anything to it. Not only are you too scared to confront him, but he also doesn’t trust you to change it properly. You need a coach who will have faith in you, otherwise, you’re screwed.”

“Oh, oh!” Victor’s raising his hand as if he were a child waiting to be called on in class. “I could coach him! It would be fun. I would visit Japan and see the ninja towers!”

“Victor, if you do not leave my sight in ten seconds, your face is going to be scarred in a way that you will not like.” Yuri threatens.

Shrieking, Victor scurries away to the middle of the rink, turning back to stick his tongue out at Yuri before skating off.

“As I was saying, you should find someone who knows you and isn’t afraid to critique you. And comfort you. None of that tough love shit, I think you’d start freaking out if someone did that to you before a competition.” Yuri says, smoothly continuing from where they had left off.

“What about my ballet teacher?”

“The one who helped with your step sequence?”

Yuuri makes an affirmative noise. “She’s not a specialist in figure skating, but she can at least help choreograph my programs. I don’t know what I could do for an instructional coach though.”

“Lilia choreographed my other routines, so a ballet teacher should be fine. And I just shit on Celestino, so I can’t really help you choose.”

“Minako doesn’t have the time to accompany me to all my competitions. I think I have to ask him.”

“Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“But,” Yuri adds. “You need to start standing up to him. And he can’t choose your music for you.”

“Would I have to move back to America?” Yuuri questions. He sounds convinced, which relieves Yuri more than it should. Yuuri was generally an intelligent person, but in situations of high emotion, he could be very rash.

“If his home rink is still there, then yes. Are you going to call him?”

“I don’t know about calling. Maybe an email.”

“Okay, then do it now.”

“What?” Yuuri cries. “I can’t do it now!”

“You and I both know that you can, and if you don’t, you never will.”

Yuri hears an offended Yuuri, then muffled shuffling. He assumes Yuuri is finally listening to him and looks up to watch Victor skate as Yuuri types. The skater is practicing his jumps, which were beautiful, if not a bit too technical.

“Katsudon?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you ever date Victor?”

The sound of clicking keys quickly comes to a halt, and Yuri wonders for a second if he’s broken his namesake. It would be a shame, seen as Yuuri was basically his only friend.

“Victor Nikiforov? Well, he wouldn’t ever want me, so no.”

“But what if he did?” Now Victor was doing spins. Yuri watches as he spins around and around, then ungracefully lands on his back. Yuri has to stifle back a laugh, lest Yuuri thinks he's being made fun of.

“Y-yuri! Don’t be ridiculous.” Yuri can practically feel the blush on Yuuri’s cheeks. He’s probably trying to avoid eye contact with all his stupid Victor posters too. Serves him right for having so many of them.

“Is that a no?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but it seems a bit... unrealistic? And I don’t even know how he really acts.”

“I’ve told you multiple things about him.” Yuri protests.

Chuckling, Yuuri returns to writing his email again. “All you ever tell me is that he’s old and annoying. I guess realistically I wouldn’t date him, not unless I really got to know him. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Yuri grins. Victor catches him looking and waves. In response, Yuri sticks up his middle finger and waves it around at him.

Yuri waits for Yuuri to finish, watching his fellow rink mates continually trip and fall. Today was not their day. Maybe Victor started a chain reaction of professional figure skaters messing up.

“Alright, I finished, Let me send you a screenshot so you can double-check.” As soon as Yuuri finishes speaking, a notification pops up, showing an image sent from him.

Yuri opens it and scans the email, mouthing out the more difficult words. In summary, Yuuri apologizes for avoiding him, then asks for Celestino to coach him once more. 

“It’s fine, but what happened to sticking up for yourself?”

“I thought I’d talk to him about that when I land in America. That way, he’s less likely to reject me.”

“Smart.”

“Thank you.”

Yuri wants to add something, but before he can open his mouth, someone interrupts. “Yura, if you don’t get yourself on the ice in the next minute, I will personally come over and drag you there myself!”

Oops. Yuri checks the times and sees that practice was supposed to start 5 minutes ago. “I’ve got to go, but if I find out that you haven’t asked your ballet instructor by the end of the day I will fly to Japan and hit you with my knife shoes.”

“Sure thing,” Yuuri laughs, sounding way too happy for someone who just got threatened. “Talk to you later.”

“Bye Katsudon.”

“Yura!”

“I’m going, I’m going!”

\- - - -

Yuuri pushes open the door and steps into Minako’s bar, said woman currently perched on top of the counter looking bored out of her mind.

“Sensei?”

“Yuuri!” Her eyes brighten as she jumps to her feet. “What can I do for you?”

“Um… you know how I said I wasn’t going to compete this year?”

“Yeah?” While everyone had been supportive of his decision, Minako was the only one who really understood _why_ , having participated in many competitions herself. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“Well, I’ve sort of decided to not do that anymore?” Yuuri gives her a sheepish smile and tries his best not to fidget. It doesn't pan out well, and he starts to twists his fingers together, shaking them out once they start to ache.

“That’s great, Yuuri! Then, when are you leaving for America?” Minako asks, having already caught on to what would be happening.

“Maybe in a week or so. But there’s something I wanted to ask of you before that.”

“Of course! I’ll do my best to help. So what is it? You finally lost your flexibility?”

“Sensei!” Yuuri whines. “You know I still practice ballet!"

“Whatever you say.” Minako grins, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

Yuuri smiles, catching her hand in his. “Actually, I was wondering if you could choreograph this season’s routines for me.”

“Huh? Doesn’t your coach usually do that for you?”

“I’m trying to insert myself more.” he explains, trying not to look away.

Minako raises her eyebrows in surprise. “I’ll do it, but I want to know what brought this on. Was it that boy?”

Yuuri nods and Minako hums in approval. “What a good kid.”

“I beg to differ.” Yuuri mummers, recalling all the times he's picked up the phone only to hear Yuri screaming at someone, something, or even nothing.

Suddenly, Minako sweeps him up in a hug, wrapping her arms around him. She smells like her favorite brand of alcohol, the ballet studio, and the Hasetsu beach all rolled into one.

“I’m proud of you Yuuri,” she says. “And I’m glad you aren’t giving up. You’ve been down recently, but you seem happier now.”

Yuuri doesn’t know how to respond to that. It seems that in all his self-wallowing, he’s forgotten that there are others who care about him. In the end, he can only swallow and say, in a quiet voice, “I won’t let you down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry for the shorter chapter, I've got quizzes every day this week and two tests back to back. Regarding Celestino, he's not really going to be that important (sorry to all you fans of his). I just need him so it looks like Yuuri has a proper coach in the eyes of the ISF.


	4. Fate and Happenstance; a Sign Is Given

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Unconventional? It’s not like you’re going to seduce someone.”
> 
> “Well…”
> 
> “ _No._ Katsudon, you didn't!”
> 
> “In my defense, I didn’t want this either!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! No, it is not Monday, but I aced my math test and my friend wouldn't listen when I told her THE ANSWER WAS POINT DISCONTUINTY I LITERALLY GRAPHED IT I KNOW I'M NOT WRONG.
> 
> Ahem. So, I decided to write an extra chapter this week! The update on Monday should still be happening, fret not. By the way, this is proof that I don't have chapters stored up in advance to release.
> 
> Edited! Actually not that bad, but I am doing this at one in the morning, so there still might be mistakes.

Over the next few weeks, Yuuri and Minako plan out Yuuri's short program routine together. The skater let his ballet teacher choose the song, which was... _unfortunate_ , to say the least.

Yuuri slowly pulls out his earbuds, looking up to stare at Minako with a daze in his eyes. “What was that?”

“Did you like it?” Minako grins, looking extremely smug.

“No! W-what—that was sultry!” Yuuri sputters out, feeling his face heat up at the thought of skating to the song in public. 

“Exactly! We’re going to boost your confidence!”

“With that?”

“Don’t you trust me? I’ve got a rough idea of how it’s going to go. Some spins that you like, and quads, of course. It’ll be fun!”

“If you say so…”

In the end, the routine was beautiful, if a bit unconventional for Yuuri. He tells Yuri so when they video chat that night.

“Unconventional? It’s not like you’re going to seduce someone.”

“Well…”

“ _No._ Katsudon, you didn't!”

“In my defense, I didn’t want this either!”

Yuri lets out a little huff, obviously trying to hold back laughter. “What’s the song called? I’m going to listen to it on repeat.”

Yuuri sighs. “In Regards to Love: Eros. There are so many other variations of it, and yet she chooses Eros.”

For a moment, Yuri is silent. Yuuri imagines the cogs turning in his head right now, trying to imagine the tune of the song. However, he couldn’t have predicted what Yuri would say.

“So we’re skating to the same piece?”

Yuuri raises his eyebrows. “Nikiforov choreographed you, a fifteen-year-old, a routine to Eros. And Coach Feltsmen approved?”

“Not that one. In Regards to Love: Agape. Remember the sappy bullshit I was telling you about?”

“Oh! That one. That makes a lot more sense.”

“It’s stupid.” Yuri scoffs. “I wish I could skate to your music.”

“You are way too young for that.”

Yuri doesn’t disagree, instead choosing to ignore what Yuuri has said. “Well, I can’t exactly skate to Agape. Victor keeps telling me that I need to find my inspiration, which is not happening.”

“Agape?” Yuuri asks. “Unconditional love..." "It's a stupid theme, and it doesn't me at all," Yuri grouses, curling his knees up to his chest. "Well, what about your grandfather?”

“Dedushka?”

“You talk about him a lot. And he did take care of you as a child.”

Yuri hums in consideration. “I thought that was storge.”

“Love doesn’t have to fit into a single category. You love him unconditionally, don’t you?”

“You’re right.” Yuri nods. His cat jumps onto his bed, and Yuri reaches his hand out to stroke down her back.

“Thank you,” Yuuri says. “I’m glad you’ve learned how to admit when others are correct.”

“Shut up,” Yuri grumbles, crossing his arms and looking away from the screen. Sitting on his bed, with his cat curled up by his side and shoulders relaxed, Yuri looks so young, and Yuuri can’t help but smile at him.

“What?” Yuri eyes him suspiciously, scooping up his cat into his arms, who purrs and nudges his chest. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“Nothing. So, how has training been?”

\- - - -

“Do you have everything?” Mari asks. His sister came to see him off at the airport, and it reminds Yuuri of when he had left for college four years prior.

“Onē-san, you helped me pack. Technically, if something were missing…” Yuuri trails off, letting Mari finish the sentence in her head.

“You brat!” Mari playfully hits him on the back of his head, laughing when he pouts at her. “Don’t forget to call Okā-san after you land; you know she worries about you.

“I will, promise!”

Mari gives him a thumbs up. “That’s the spirit! Give it your all with Celestino. If he tries to throw you out, don’t let him. Stand your ground.”

“You sound like Yuri.” Yuuri mummers, recalling the horror from last night.

Everything had been fine until _Victor Nikiforov_ walked into Yuri’s room, asking him who he was talking to. Yuri promptly threw his computer into the sheets and proceeded to scream at Victor in Russian, chasing him away. Yuuri was mortified; having not expected to see anyone but Yuri, his hair was a mess and he was wearing old, threadbare pajamas he had owned since high school. Later, Yuri explained to him that Victor had stopped by Yakov’s for dinner, hence why he was there.

“I wish I looked like him too.” Mari sighs, stroking her own cheek. “Ah, to be youthful.”

“Maybe if you smoked less?”

“Get out of here.”

After saying their goodbyes, Yuuri heads to the boarding gate on his own, dragging his suitcase behind him. He sits down in a quiet corner by himself, watching people trickle in. A mummer of Japanese fills the room, and Yuuri realizes with a start that this could be the last time he heard the collective population speak his native language for months on end. The thought was bitter, but at least he didn’t cry like last time.

Yuuri boards the plane, pushing his suitcase into the overhead compartment before slumping into his seat with a sigh. He plugs in his earbuds and hopes with all his might that Celestino would take him on again.

\- - - -

“Yuuri.”

“Coach.” Yuuri sheepishly grins. Celestino had bumped into him at the airport, even though they had arranged to meet at the rink.

“Do you need help with that?” Celestino asks, gesturing to the suitcases he had gotten from baggage claim.

“I-I’m fine.”

“Yuuri, you have three bags and two hands. Let me take one.” Celestino insists, grabbing one of Yuuri’s bags, which just so happened to contain most of his athletic gear.

“Thank you.”

Celestino nods, and off they go. The Detroit Skating Club is a couple of hours away from the airport, and Yuuri takes Celestino’s car, trying his best not to fidget or make eye contact along the way.

Celestino drives Yuuri to an apartment he’s rented, having not wanted to return to the athletic dorms. As much as he enjoyed rooming with Phichit, Yuuri would prefer a bit more peace and quiet, and the dorms wouldn’t provide him that. Especially if those american football players were still here.

After Yuuri’s dropped off his belongings, leaving him only with his gym bag, they head for the rink. Stepping inside, Yuuri is hit with a sense of nostalgia, reminiscent of when he returned to the Ice Castle.

Phichit is there too, scrolling through his phone while lying on the bleachers. When he spots Yuuri approaching, he jumps up and runs over to them. 

“Yuuri, you’re back!”

“Hi, Phichit!”

“Phichit, why weren’t you practicing?” Celestino asks. “You’ll be going up against skaters like Victor Nikiforov and Christophe Giacometti, and based on their scores last season they don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

“And Yuuri!” Phichit adds. “We’ll finally be competing on the same ice!”

“Speaking of…” Celestino turns to Yuuri, who shrivels back in fear. “Go warm-up and do some jumps for me. Your step sequences will keep, so jumps are my main concern as of now. I want to see how much you’ve improved and what you’ve forgotten.”

“Yes, Coach!” Yuuri hastily says, tripping over himself to get to the changing room while Phichit and Celestino look on in amusement.

He comes out with his skates on and warmed up, ready to get on the ice. The junior skaters are taking a break and avidly watch as he steps onto the ice, gliding around a couple of times before returning to the middle.

He does a couple of spins and an improvised step sequence to hype himself up before leaping into the air and performing a clean quad Lutz. 

The juniors ooh and ahh, quietly clapping for him as he lands, directly transitioning into a low spin. He raises himself up, gathering speed before pulling off a quad toe and a toe loop, though not without a break in between. Yuuri did touch down on the toe loop, but it had only been a couple of weeks since he started learning.

The juniors cheer from the bleachers as Yuuri skates up to where Phichit and Celestino are. Celestino looks shocked while Phichit is jumping up and down in excitement.

“That was amazing Yuuri!” Phichit says, waving his phone back and forth. “I’m posting it onto Instagram!”

“Where did that last jump come from? I thought you only knew the Lutz and the toe?” Celestino asks.

“I’ve been practicing,” Yuuri replies, twisting his hands behind him as Celestino's stare gets even deeper.

“Without a supervisor?”

“I guess not.” Yuri had watched him, but only through pre-recorded videos and plus, Yuuri doesn’t think Celestino would consider someone as young and brash as Yuri to be a supervisor of any sort.

“That’s dangerous, Yuuri,” Celestino warns. “You could've been injured.”

“Ciao-Ciao, he’s here and alive, isn’t he?” Phichit insists. “It’s fine!”

Celestino sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I suppose. Still, I can tell you’ve improved, Yuuri. We don’t have as much time as I’d like, but I’ll start planning your routines.”

“Actually, Coach, I already have the choreography and music for my short program. And I wanted to do my free skate too.”

“I-if that’s alright by you!” Yuuri quickly adds, not wanting to upset his coach. He steps back, forgetting he was on ice, and nearly stumbles onto the cold floor, losing all of the grace he previously had.

Celestino stares at him in surprise. He’s been doing that a lot ever since Yuuri stepped off the plane.

“I’ll show you!” Yuuri blurts out, getting off the ice and grabbing his blade guards from Phichit. He takes out his phone, noting that he has messages from his mother and Yuri, and pulls up the video of Minako performing the choreography, albeit without the jumps and in a ballet studio. He also hands over the notes she had written for Celestino.

Celestino reads it thoroughly before watching the video twice, murmuring to himself in Italian as his hand flies through the air, mimicking the motions Minako makes on-screen.

“Well,” he says. “I think it's wonderful. If she wants, she can choreograph your free skate as well.”

“She said you could change it if you want!” Yuuri replies, toying with the hem of his jacket.

Celestino nods. “We’ll use it as a strong base to work off of. Not that much needs to be changed, perhaps a tweak here or there. But, are you sure you can pull this off, Yuuri? It’s very…”

“Flirty?” Yuuri supplies and Celestino hums in agreement. “I know, but I’m going to try my best. And I don’t have to be flirty, I just have to tell a story of eros.”

“That makes no sense.” Phichit pouts. “But whatever.”

He sneaks up behind Yuuri and holds up his phone, snapping a picture of the two of them. “Welcome back!”

Yuuri laughs, waving at the camera as it continues to go off. “It’s good to be back.”

\- - - -

Over the next few days, Yuri throws himself into practice. Now that Yuuri’s got a coach, Yuri can relax, and maybe finally get Yakov off his case.

Victor's input aside, Yuri has been sending bits of his routine over for critique, always wanting another keen eye to point out any mistakes, and Yuuri has done the same. Recently, he felt confident enough to send over his entire routine, and Yuri watches it knowing that if Victor ever saw a polished version of this live, he would be done for. Yuuri hadn’t quite mastered his seductiveness yet, but a little bit showed.

It made Yuri feel strange. Like if his grandfather had been trying to flirt with the group of widows going to bingo. 

Nevertheless, he wanted to try it out. After all, Yuuri had skated his routine, plus, the music was basically the cooler version of his short program’s music.

Yakov and the rest of his rink mates had gone to lunch while Yuri hangs back to practice on his own. He starts the music, getting into the starting position, and refuses to blow a kiss to the empty bleachers. As he skates, he feels a pair of eyes on him but refuses to turn around, lest he mess up the routine.

However, as soon as the music ends, Yuri whirls around, ready to snap at, just as he thought, Victor.

“Yura! Was that In Regards to Love: Eros?” Victor asks, leaning over the barrier.

“And what if it was?” 

Victor beams, stepping onto the ice with him. “You’re too young for something like that. Actually, I was planning on an Eros routine, but I wasn't feeling it. We could’ve had twin short programs! Wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“No,” Yuri states, crossing his arms. “And I’m plenty old to do what I want.”

“Although…” Victor starts. “The program could use some adjusting. It feels like it was meant for dance instead of figure skating.”

He takes out a journal that Yuri knows is for his created routines and flips through it, stopping on a page spread with doodles all around the edge.

“What’s with the hearts?” Yuri asks, unable to help himself.

Victor sighs, gaining a love-stricken expression that Yuri was, unfortunately, all too familiar with. “I just was just imagining how Yuuri Katsuki would look skating it. The way he moves his body—”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Yuri declares, hopping off the ice and glaring at Victor. “You do your thing, and I’m going to ignore what you just said.”

Victor carefully reads his spread before tossing the journal to Yuri. “Alright, I know how to fix it!”

“Fix it?” Yuri sputters. “The routine is perfectly fine without your shit input.”

Victor waves him off. “It’s a great routine for a beginner choreographer like you Yuri; dare I say even one of the best I’ve seen. But it needs to be for the ice, not the bar.”

He skates to the center of the rink, hands in the exact same position as Yuri’s previously were. By some sort of miracle or genius mind, Victor remembers how Yuri skated, and changes it, shouting out said changes as he skates them. Yuri writes it down on his phone, recording it for later use.

“Now it’s your turn!” Victor grins, waving at him. 

Yuri grumbles as he gets off the bleacher, shoving his phone into Victor’s chest. “Record me.”

“And,” he adds. “If you dare go into my messages and try to get Katsudon’s number to get into his pants, I will murder both you and your dog.”

“Duly noted!” Victor says cheerfully, though his shoulder’s slump as if he was disappointed in something. Yuri hmphs and stomps onto the ice. The strings of In Regards to Love: Eros starts up, and Yuri performs it once more but with Victor’s changes. 

Yuri snatches his phone back from Victor with a huffed thanks as he sends Yuuri both the video of him skating and the notes of changes he had previously written down. Almost immediately, Yuuri replies.

_Katsudon: Thanks for the help!_

_ Yuri: whatever _

_ Yuri: have you decided on free skate music _

_Katsudon: Not yet._

_Katsudon: There’s an old music piece that my classmate made for me but Celestino rejected._

_Katsudon: I might do that._

_ Yuri: are you hearing yourself right now _

_Katsudon: But I like her music._

_ Yuri: then ask her to compose something new _

_ Yuri: if you were classmates chulanont probably has her email or something _

_Katsudon: But I don’t want to bother her._

_ Yuri: you are literally going to perform in a national competition _

_ Yuri: international if you win, which you will _

_ Yuri: think of it as a publicity stunt for her if it really bothers you that much _

_Katsudon: I guess..._

_ Yuri: good _

Satisfied, Yuri puts his phone away as the other skaters slowly return. Yakov walks back in with a takeout box and hands it to Yuri before walking away once more, complaining about how “children these days don’t eat anything”, or something.

“Can I have some?” Victor asks, reaching out and trying to grab a piece of his lunch. Yuri smacks his hand away before reluctantly parting with half of it to feed the silver-haired skater next to him.

“Do you think Yuuri Katsuki would like this?”

“Next time, you can starve.”

\- - - -

As it turns out, Ketty is all too eager to help him out, and in a week or two sends over a piece titled “Yuri on ICE!!!". As Yuuri listens to it, he can picture a narrative being told through the music. He thanks Ketty, asking her if she wanted payment. She ends up declining, saying that her only request is that he succeeds.

Satisfied by the music, he sends it over to Minako, who starts to devise a routine for it. When Yuuri reveals that it was Yuri who encouraged him to ask Ketty, Minako doesn’t seem surprised, and only asks that Yuri be thanked on her behalf.

“That Russian boy has been a good influence on you.”

Yuuri thinks back to their previous conversation, the one where Yuri was trying to cook and talk at the same time. Needless to say, it did not end well. In fact, it ended with Yuri cursing out a stove and Yuuri wondering where in life he had gone wrong. “I don’t think Yuri's particularly positive.”

“Nonsense! You’ve grown much more confident since meeting him, and you take less bullshit from others. Accept the punk in you, Yuuri!”

“Alright, alright.” Yuuri huffs, eyes glimmering with amusement. “I’m a punk.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. A punk-in-training perhaps.”

“Sensei!”

“Kidding, I’m kidding. You’re too much of a pork cutlet bowl to ever be a punk.”

“ _Sensei!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Did you enjoy having 2 chapters in a week? Savour that feeling, because it's never happening again. I was planning on writing a shorter chapter, maybe not even the usual 2k I try to reach. This ended up being almost 3k. I've been writing from 3 to 7:30. I have no more mind power to do anything.
> 
> I was going to stop with Yuuri impressing Celestino, but I pre-planned it to be till both of the program's music existed, so here we are.
> 
> Note: It is completely not okay to learn new jumps on your own. You need supervision (and a harness) so you don't end up hurting yourself badly. Please don't do what Yuuri did, even with Yuri helping. Especially with Yuri helping.


	5. Living Means Being Strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor’s eyes widen, and Yuri feels like he’s come to a great misunderstanding. “Oh! I get it, you’re a growing child, with puberty and hormones, but really Yuri, should you be watching—"
> 
> “I’m going to stop you _right there_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally in competition mode! Please enjoy!
> 
> Edited! I'm honestly proud of myself for this not being a complete mess. The number of changes I had to make to chapter one was sad.

As Yuuri skates through the last portion of Yuri on ICE!!!, he can hear Celestino and Phichit talking at the sidelines. Usually, Phichit was busy recording Yuuri’s practices runs for him, but the stand he ordered has finally come in, so Phichit had nothing to do. Well, he could practice, or complete his schoolwork, but the Thai skater more often than not just flitted around the rink, chatting up their rink mates.

As the music starts to fade from his earbuds, Yuuri grabs his phone and heads towards his coach, who sees him coming and smiles.

“Excellent work Yuuri! I noticed you struggled on that last combination, but you still managed to land it cleanly, so that’s good. Try adding a little more power to your push off next time.”

“Yes, Coach. What were you and Phichit talking about before?” Yuuri asks, accepting the water bottle handed to him by a junior skater. 

The two mentioned people glance at each other before Celestino shrugs. “You’ve improved a lot over the span of a few months. We were wondering why.”

“It’s obviously not because of your coach, since you’ve been under Ciao-Ciao for years,” Phichit says. “No offense!”

“None taken. Phichit’s right. Is it because of the choreography? If I had known that having your ballet teacher choreograph your pieces would make you skate better I would’ve had her start years ago.”

“There’s really no specific reason… I guess staying in Hasetsu for a while helped?” Yuuri would’ve said more, but a rapid series of buzzes from his phone tells Yuuri that Yuri’s seen his video and was replying to it.

As he skims through the critiques, Yuuri looks up at Celestino. “Coach, you never mentioned that I almost under-rotated on my Salchow.”

Celestino raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You did, but it was still a good jump. Who told you that?”

Phichit pouts, crossing his arms. “Can’t you tell? It’s his mysterious friend that lives in his phone!”

“I’ve told you multiple times who I’ve been talking to!” Yuuri weakly protests.

“Yeah, but you just keep referring to yourself in third person! That’s not how a conversation works, Yuuri!”

The first time Phichit asked, Yuuri had said “Yuri”, forgetting that he too had a name that sounded like Yuri. Phichit looked at him in disbelief, and Yuuri quickly saw his mistake. But before he could correct himself, Phichit went on a tirade about how it wasn’t possible to be talking to himself through his phone unless he had a separate number of his to text, and that even if he did, it was sad and creepy and he should just text Phichit more because “I send you so many cute hamster pics and you only respond to some of them!”. 

By then, Phichit had poured out his albeit small feelings about the situation and Yuuri was too amused to correct him, so he simply nodded and continued to not let Phichit know about Yuri Plisetsky and the close, if rather odd, friendship they’ve stuck up.

“So, this mysterious person, are they also a figure skater?” Celestino asks. “Or are they just a fan with really sharp eyes?”

“They’re a skater,” Yuuri confirms, and Phichit perks up, readily taking in this new bit of information given to him.

“Do I know them? You aren’t close to that many senior skaters, let alone juniors. Is it Sara?”

Yuuri smiles. “Did I ever say they were a professional skater?”

Phichit groans as Yuuri laughs, heading back towards the rink. 

“This isn’t over yet!” Phichit calls out, to which Yuuri waves a hand back at him before gathering speed to perform a clean quad toe-triple toe combination.

\- - - -

Before Yuuri knows it, it was October, and time for the Southern Regional Championships. Normally, a skater participating in the Grand Prix doesn’t have to go through this, but since Yuuri placed last, the JSU wanted to make sure he still was the best skater in Japan.

Pre-competition was... awkward, to say the least. Yuuri was the oldest one there, with about a five year age difference between him and the second-oldest skater, Fujiwara Hikaru. The other skaters were friendly enough, but Yuuri knows that they know why he’s here, which is enough to make him want to crawl into a hole every time they make eye contact with him.

One skater in particular was extremely friendly. A small, tan, blonde with a streak of red in his hair quivers in excitement every time Yuuri gets close, and after he drew lots he hears him say, “I got to see you draw the first spot in person again, Yuuri-kun!”. He and Yuuri had obviously met before, but Yuuri couldn’t quite remember who he was.

Nevertheless, now wasn’t the time to worry about other skaters. He had to do well this time, unlike last year where his nerves from Sochi managed to follow him to Nationals and cause him to lose that as well, resulting in the not being able to compete at Worlds and an upset Yuri.

Speaking of Yuri, the teen had called him before warm-up started, sensing that he was starting to panic. Yuri was, of course, correct.

“In last year’s Nationals, I bombed everything. They wondered if I was injured, but embarrassingly, nothing was physically wrong with me. I lost, despite being a top contender, because I was mentally weak.” Yuuri rambles, sitting outside the Okayama International Skate Rink, his hands in his hair as he bangs his head on his knees.

“Katsudon, chill out.”

“I haven’t been in a single competition since last year’s Nationals!”

“And you’ve spent that time with family and practice. You aren’t mentally weak anymore. This is the best you’ve ever been, even with your shitty Salchow.”

“My Salchow?”

“That’s a discussion for a later date. But don’t think I haven’t noticed. My point is that you’re going to go and beat every other skater there, understood?”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“I am. They’re all trash anyway.”

“Yuri! Need I remind you, they beat me last year.”

Yuuri can hear Yuri huff as they rehash an old argument yet again. “And I keep reminding you that your nerves got the best of you. You’re Japan’s ace for a reason.”

“I can’t—”

“Just breathe, Katsudon. You promised to stand next to me on the podium, remember?”

Yuuri lets out a nervous giggle. “I remember nothing of the sort.”

“Well, you did just now. You and I are going to get gold and silver, and we’ll leave Victor and his stupid consecutive medals in the dust. But for that to happen, I need you to stay calm and win this.”

“Right. I got this.”

“You got this.”

“I’m going to stay calm and do the best I can. Everything will be fine.”

“Everything will be fine because you’re going to crush them beneath your feet.”

“Yuri!”

“I’m not sorry.”

Hearing his crude humor is enough for Yuuri to finally relax. He feels a false sense of calm that will most likely break after he’s done skating, but for now, he’s good. This competition even isn’t that big. Would he rather mess up in this or in the Grand Prix?

“Okay, I think I’m ready.”

“Good.” Yuuri can hear the satisfaction in Yuri’s voice. “Now go inside. They’ve already started streaming but only Minami’s there. He’s bouncing up and down like he’s on a trampoline.”

“He’s probably just nervous.” Yuuri laughs.

“...Katsudon?”

“Yes, Yuri?”

“I’m not going to wish you luck because you’ll obviously win, but uh, don’t mess up, okay? I have faith in you.”

Yuuri beams at the empty space next to him. For a moment, Yuuri wishes, as he often had been for the past few days, that his friend was next to him. “Thanks, Yuri.”

\- - - -

During warm-up, the sense of calm stays with him, allowing him to do jumps without stumbling and falling once. The other competitors must have noticed as well because they occasionally stop to stare at him.

When Celestino gestures him over, he looks surprised to find that Yuuri isn’t completely freaking himself out, but doesn’t mention it, instead patting him on the shoulder.

“Good luck. Do you best out there.”

“Yes, Coach!” Yuuri nods. The bell blares, signaling that warm-up was over. Yuuri watches as the other skaters get off the ice, then takes a deep breath, removing his Team Japan jacket to reveal his outfit: a tight, black costume with see-through mesh on parts of his body. Yuuri shivers, due more so to the fact that his costumes have never been this revealing rather than the cold air radiating off the ice.

“Now presenting Katsuki Yuuri, who will be skating to In Regards to Love: Eros.”

Time to face the music.

\- - - -

Yuri sits down in a hidden corner of the break room, watching Southern Japan’s Championship from his laptop. Yuuri, unfortunately for him, is first. He watches the four skaters as they warm up. One of them, the one with shaggy hair, attempts a quad toe and stumbles on his landing. Yuri quietly snickers to himself before hearing the door open.

“Yura? What are you doing here?” Victor asks, sticking his head through the doorway.

Yuri glances between his screen and the other skater, wondering if not letting Victor find out what he was watching was worth the hassle of setting it up again.

“Nothing,” Yuri replies, glaring at Victor. “Can you go away now? I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

Victor’s eyes widen, and Yuri feels like he’s come to a great misunderstanding. “Oh! I get it, you’re a growing child, with puberty and hormones, but really Yuri, should you be watching—"

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Yuri growls, feeling his cheeks heat up. He turns his computer around, showing Victor what he had been actually viewing. “Now that you’re done making shitty assumptions, you can leave.”

“Is that a competition? What are you watching that for? The Grand Prix Circuit doesn’t start till next month.”

“That’s not what I’m watching, idiot.”

“Then what is it?” Victor looks too curious for Yuri’s own good, and he wishes that the world would just let him watch his friend skate in peace.

“Noth—”

“Now presenting Katsuki Yuuri, who will be skating to On Love: Eros.”

Well, _shit_.

Victor’s eyes light up, and Yuri’s eyes start darting around the room, looking for a way to escape. “Is that Yuuri Katsuki?”

“No, I’m watching JJ perform.” Yuri snarks back. Victor, much to his displeasure, sits down next to him, avidly watching his screen.

“He’s so pretty,” Victor swoons, looking lovestruck until the cameras zoom in on him, showing off the details of his costume. At this point, Victor goes silent, and Yuri turns his head to see the man bright red, eyes glued to the screen.

“I told him this was a bad idea, but _no_.” Yuri grumbles under his breath. When Yuuri first showed him his short program costume, Yuri spat out his water and asked where the rest of it was. The costume was all black with small jewels reflecting light off him, which drew people’s eyes to him. Maybe a bit too well, if Victor’s gaze is anything to go by.

“Is it just me, or does his costume look like one of mine?”

“You’re too egotistical.” Yuri scoffs. It was, in fact, based off of one of Victor’s junior costumes from his raunchier days, but Yuri wasn’t going to just _tell_ him that.

“Shh, it’s starting.”

Yuuri blows a kiss to the camera, and Yuri swears he heard a whimper coming from Victor. So much for being quiet.

The music starts up strong and passionate, and Yuuri follows suit. The first half of the program consists of step sequences; Yuuri’s backloaded his program for extra points. This is the part Yuri could’ve relaxed at, but unfortunately for him, Victor is by his side and furiously shaking his arm.

“Yura, did you see that?! That was my choreography! Oh, he does look so handsome skating.” Victor sighs, reaching out to caress the on-screen Yuuri.

“First off, not all yours. Second, keep your grubby hands to yourself.” Yuri slaps his hands away, leaving a pouting Victor beside him.

“Wait… Yura, did you show him my choreography?”

“How else would he have known? Through you?”

Victor ignores him and continues on. “Maybe he’ll reach out to thank me! And then we can start talking and get married! And then I’ll bed him—”

“That’s gross. Now shut up, his jumps are coming.”

Yuuri goes into a spread eagle, then transitions into a triple Axel. He lands it, and Yuri nods in approval. The triple Axel was his favorite jump, that was the easy part.

Now came the quad Salchow. The beginning goes well, but once again, he almost under-rotates. Yuri scowls. The next time they meet, he’s dragging Yuuri to a rink and teaching him how to do a good Salchow until it’s the best jump he has.

The last jump is a combination: a quad toe-triple toe. Yuri holds his breath in anticipation, only releasing it when Yuuri cleanly lands. The music comes to an end and Victor starts applauding furiously, his claps echoing through the otherwise silent room.

“Did you see that, Yura? Wasn’t it amazing? Can we watch it again?”

“Victor, it’s a _live stream_.”

They watch as Celestino leads Yuuri to the kiss and cry, waiting in anticipation for his score to come out.

“The results are in: Katsuki Yuuri’s short program score is 93.36!”

“He’s beat his personal best by almost 10 points!” Yuri cries out, unable to help himself. He feels proud, and almost irrationally happy for Yuuri.

Cheers erupt both from the computer and Victor, who reaches out to hug Yuri. Yuri squirms away, glaring at Victor before returning his attention back to Yuuri, who had a smile on his face.

“They’re interviewing him!” Victor is bouncing up and down as if this were his first time watching a competition.

“That was an excellent performance just then, Skater Katsuki! What are your plans for this season, should you win?” 

Yuuri gives them a nervous half-grimace half-grin. “Well, I would like to participate in the Grand Prix Finale again. Worlds too, if possible. I’m going to work hard and try my best.”

The reporter nods. “Best of luck to you!”

The interview continues on, and Yuri watches, hand clutching his phone, ready to call as soon as the interview ends. Suddenly, a new voice comes from behind them.

“Did you see my ‘Lohengrin’ performance? Coach says it was my best triple Axel yet!”

It was the shortie from earlier. The over-hyper one that worshipped Yuuri like a god, if the way he acts around him was anything to go by. Yuri feels like he would get along with the silver-haired skater next to him.

“I’m sorry, I was being interviewed, so I missed it.”

Shortie looks so betrayed and hurt that Yuri bursts out laughing. “What an idiot!”

“Yura!” Victor chides. “He’s in the presence of his idol! How would you feel if your idol missed out on your performance?”

“Better yet, how would you feel if your idol didn’t know you were a skater?” Yuri shoots back, watching in glee as Victor deflates and looks away.

Shortie keeps tearing up, taking off his jacket to reveal his costume underneath. “I even had a similar costume made to the one from your famous ‘Lohengrin’ program.”

Yuri continues to laugh under his breath. He had seen Yuuri’s Lohengrin program, of course, and it really did look similar.

“That’s a costume from my dark past…” Yuuri mummers, looking embarrassed. Yuri can see Celestino watching from behind Yuuri, and Yuri flips him off, not caring that Victor was watching.

“You don’t have a dark past!” Shortie cries. Literally. Tears are leaking out of his eyes as he continues on. “Don’t make fun of me for looking up to you for so long and trying to catch up to you!”

He points at Yuuri with determination in his eyes. “I’m gonna give tomorrow’s free skate everything I’ve got! Please do so as well, Yuuri-kun. I won’t forgive you if you slack off!”

With a nervous smile on his face, Yuuri looks away, and the reporter says, “Skater Minami’s issued a challenge! At last year’s Nationals, Skater Minami Kenjiro finished ahead of Skater Katsuki.”

What.

Yuri thinks back to the clips he saw of Japan’s Nationals. Yuuri flunked because of nerves, and first place ended up being… a short, over-eager blonde with a streak of red in his hair!

Yuri glares at Minami, mumbling under his breath. “Well Katsudon’s going to beat you so hard you’ll wish you were still a junior skater. You look like one anyway, wouldn’t be that hard to sneak yourself in.”

It looks like Yuuri’s figured it out as well, because his smile morphs into more of a grimace as he stands completely still, stiff as a board. He looks as if he’s also about to burst into tears at any moment, and Yuri decides now is the time to interfere.

He calls Yuuri and watches as a phone rings on screen. Celestino hands Yuuri his phone, and Yuuri checks it before breaking out in a relieved grin. “Sorry, I’ve got to answer this.”

“Of course. Skater Minami, if we could ask you a few questions?”

“Yes! Yuuri-kun, good luck tomor—”

Before Minami could finish his sentence, Yuuri rushes past him, giving him a short wave. Yuri watches until he can longer see Yuuri on screen, which is also when Yuuri picks up the phone.

“Hey.”

“Hi! I think I did well.”

Victor perks up, recognizing the voice flowing through Yuri’s phone. “Yuuri! Good job on your performance today!”

“W-was that Victor Nikiforov?” Yuuri asks, sounding panicked. That was the complete opposite of what Yuri wants, and so he shoos Victor away, kicking at him with his left leg.

“I’m glad you liked my choreography! I’ll do more if you want!” Victor shouts before Yuri can fully kick him out.

“What?!”

“Nothing, ignore what he said. I watched your short program, and the interview.”

“Yeah, thanks for saving me back there!” Yuuri's tone relaxes, and Yuri lets out a silent sighh of relief.

“S’fine. You did well. You Salchow, as I’ve said many times before, is shit, but I don’t think the others can do that yet, so for now a shit Salchow is still a Salchow.”

“Right. I didn’t know Minami was last year's champion. That kind of freaks me out a bit.”

“He only won because of your nerves, which are now gone.” Yuri reminds him.

“I don’t know about that…”

“If you’re so stressed, lower the difficulty of tomorrow’s free skate.”

“What? I can’t lower the difficulty!”

“You’re already stressed out as is. Either you do a good job with an easier program, or you mess up with a harder one, which will send you down spiraling.”

Yuuri sighs. “Why are you always right?”

"I don't have to be; when I'm with you, I just am."

Suddenly, Victor pops back into the break room with Mila and Georgi in tow. “Yura! Are you still talking to Yuuri? Can I talk to him?”

“Absolutely not.” Yuri snaps. “Katsudon, gotta go. Rink mates are bothering me.”

“Alright, talk to you later!”

Mila opens the fridge and pulls out two bottles of yogurt, tossing one to Georgi before going back in and taking out two bottles of orange juice, one of which gets handed over to Yuri.

“Did you tell him about Victor changing his choreo?” she asks, taking a swig of her yogurt. Yuri sighs, feeling like murdering everyone in this room, himself included. Ever since Victor let it spill that Yuri was “stealing the love of his life away from him”, the rest of his teammates have joined the on-going quest to get Yuuri’s number so Victor can talk to him and seduce him.

“Nope.”

“You didn’t tell him?” Victor sulks, ferociously stabbing his straw into the top of his drink. It breaks through the seal, squirting out drops of orange juice through the straw from all the force he's using.

“He wouldn’t have used it if he knew it came from you. I’ll tell him after his short program. That way, he can’t change it.” Yuri throws the drink in his hand at Victor, who unfortunately catches it before tossing it to Mila. Said woman pokes a hole on the top using the point of her canine tooth before chugging it down.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

Mila finishes the bottle, lugging the now empty container at Georgi who throws it in the trash. “Now it’s in my stomach, so too bad.”

“You hag! I’ll squeeze it out of you!”

“I know you’re a teenage boy and all, but I never expected you to be this _kinky_ , Yura.”

Yuri _really_ wants to murder everyone in this room right about now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: In the anime, Yuuri's short program score is actually 94.36, but I deducted a point because he also had Yuri teach him how to do a Quad Salchow, which hasn't happened yet. So his scores for Nationals will be a bit lower, but not by that much.
> 
> You never realized how much time goes by until you actually stop to look at it. According to a timeline I found, Yuri and Yuuri have been friends for over a year now!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Simple Feelings Are the Most Precious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri wakes up feeling refreshed and ready to face the day. After his disastrous interview, Yuuri went back to his hotel room, where he then proceeded to hide until dinner time. He ate by himself in the corner of a quiet restaurant, flinching whenever he thought he heard someone mention figure skating.
> 
> After, he went to a rink to go through his free skate again before bed, then headed to his hotel and passed out until an hour or so before warm-up started.
> 
> Today, Yuuri was the man to beat. Which was totally fine. Yup. Nothing wrong with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Nothing much to say at the beginning, but be warned: I am going to word vomit a bunch of explanations in the end notes. Enjoy!
> 
> Edited! This chapter took literal days I can’t with myself.

Yuuri wakes up feeling refreshed and ready to face the day. After his disastrous interview, Yuuri went back to his hotel room, where he then proceeded to hide until dinner time. He ate by himself in the corner of a quiet restaurant, flinching whenever he thought he heard someone mention figure skating.

After, he went to a rink to go through his free skate again before bed, then headed to his hotel and passed out until an hour or so before warm-up started.

Today, Yuuri was the man to beat. Which was totally fine. Yup. Nothing wrong with that.

He steps downstairs to find Minami already there, practically inhaling his breakfast. They make eye contact with each other, and while Yuuri recoils in shock at being noticed, Minami simply beams up at him.

“Yuuri-kun!” he greets, cheerfully waving to Yuuri, who hesitantly waves back. “Sit with me!”

Yuuri gets a glass of orange juice and toast. He feels like if he eats any more, he might just throw up before the competition. Even without eating, he still might vomit. Yuuri takes the seat across from Minami, who’s watching him with stars in his eyes. Nervously, Yuuri tries to smile at him.

“I, um, watched your short program afterward. It was good.” It was so good that it caused Yuuri to hyperventilate, curl up in his bed, and call Yuri to call himself down but that was neither here nor there.

“You did?!” Minami shouts, startling the other guests, who click their tongues and glare at him, not ready for the amount of energy Minami was exhibiting.

Sheepishly, he lowers his voice, “Did you see my triple axel? Wasn’t it amazing?!”

Yuuri nods, and Minami all but squeals in excitement. “Can I take a picture of you? For Instagram?”

“Sure,” Yuuri replies, smiling at the phone camera. He had done this for Phichit too many times to be nervous about the picture, but the idea that Minami’s fans were going to see it was a bit strange. He didn’t know how they’d react, which was nerve-wracking.

“Thank you so much, Yuuri-kun!” Minami reaches out and vehemently shakes his hand.

“It’s no problem!” Yuuri replies. Less than a minute later, however, he hears his phone blowing up with notifications. Turning it on, he sees that it’s Yuri, who he knew was supposed to be training right now and not on his phone harassing Yuuri.

_ Angry Kitten: WHY DOES SHORTIE HAVE A PICTURE OF YOU _

_ Angry Kitten: AND WHY DID HE CAPTION IT FAVORITE SKATERS EATING BREAKFAST TOGETHER _

_ Angry Kitten: WHY ARE YOU AND SHORTIE CORRESPONDING _

_Yuuri: He asked for a picture!_

_ Angry Kitten: his fans are going wild _

_Yuuri: How do you know?_

_ Angry Kitten: he posted it on instagram along with a spew of emojis _

_Yuuri: Why are you on his Instagram?_

_ Angry Kitten: stalking him obviously _

_Yuuri: Yuri!_

_ Angry Kitten: i need to make sure he’s not a suspicious character _

_ Angry Kitten: he challenged you and only i can challenge you _

_Yuuri: Minami’s nice!_

_ Angry Kitten: he’s like a child on a sugar rush _

_ Angry Kitten: except the sugar rush never stops _

_Yuuri: …_

_ Angry Kitten: exactly _

“Hikaru-kun, Yuuto-kun!” Yuuri looks up to see the other two competitors coming towards them, each with a plate in their hands filled with light foods fit for pre-competition. They sit down at their table, and Yuuri gives them a polite smile, heart pounding through his chest now that all the competitors have arrived.

“Good morning.” he greets. Fujiwara, the one with long light brown hair, nods at him. Omiki greets him back.

“Good morning, Katsuki-san. We missed you at dinner last night.”

Yuuri lets out a nervous laugh, hands pulling at the opposite fingers under the table, hidden from sight. “I was kind of tired, with the flight from America to Japan and all.”

“I see. Will you be joining us tonight?”

“Please, Yuuri-kun?” Minami asks. “It’ll just be the four of us!”

“I don’t know…” Yuuri trails off, eyes darting around the room. Then, Minami startles him by giving him the saddest pout he’s ever seen. His eyes widen as his lower lip begins to slightly tremble. It feels like a trick he’s done before and would gladly do again.

“Alright.” Yuuri concedes, saying goodbye to the quiet evening he had hoped for.

The four of them lapse into quiet conversations after that. In all honesty, it’s mainly the other three talking amongst themselves while Yuuri listens from the side. Once again, he is reminded of how much older he is in comparison to them and just how much he doesn’t fit. Of course, he wishes that Phichit and Yuri were here, but surprisingly, he finds himself also longing for the presence of people like the over-exuberant Chris, Michele with his weird sister complex, and even JJ, despite being, well, _JJ_.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

The rest of breakfast goes smoothly, and they head towards the rink with their coaches separately. Yuuri can feel the threads of panic beginning to form, starting in his gut before spreading out and humming under his skin. As he slips on his costume, a glimmering purple pseudo-blazer with a magenta v-neck underneath, his breath turns jolted and short, leading to a lack of air that doesn't help at all.

Warm-up is a mess, to say the least. Yuuri pulls it together enough to look calm, but he can feel and see his hands shake, and not from the cold. His chest is tight and his eyes feel damp like he could start crying at any time.

The other skaters don’t help; if anything, they make it worse. Minami is practicing his triple axels and continuously pulls them off, landing them cleanly in a way Yuuri wishes he could’ve done at his age. The other two are attempting to do quads together, which would be fine if they were succeeding so well. They don’t even _have_ those types of quads in their programs, why do they know them?

Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief when he hears the bell signaling the end of warm-up, all but running this way to the edge of the rink and onto the bench, grabbing his skate guards from Celestino with a hurried thanks.

Today he’s going last, which just gives him even more time to panic. Yuuri tries to stay calm, taking slow, deep breaths to calm his rapidly beating heart. He so badly wants to just run out of the stadium and hide but restrains himself.

Minami goes first, having placed last the day before. His piece is an upbeat swing titled “Minami’s Boogie”, and his costume fits the mood with a yellow vest and a hanging red tie. Yuuri can only imagine what Yuri has to say about it.

Nevertheless, he skates excellently, with an almost flawless performance. Yuuri holds his breath during the kiss and cry, hoping that his overall score was low enough that Yuuri could catch up.

“Skater Minami’s free skate score is...152.14, giving him a total score of 214.97!”

The audience cheers loudly as Minami stands up and bows before jumping onto his coach, hugging her tightly. Fujiwara and Omiki applaud as well, though Omiki looks a bit nervous after hearing his score. Yuuri sympathizes.

He watches as the other two go before him, now with a weight of 214.97 on their shoulders. Fujiwara and Omiki are good skaters, but Omiki stumbles after his triple toe-double toe combination, causing the audience and Yuuri to wince collectively. In the end, neither managed to score over 200, though Fujiwara was awfully close. Still, that leaves Yuuri as the only one still with a chance to beat Minami.

Yuuri, who placed last at the Grand Prix Finale and at Nationals. Beating Minami Kenjirou, last year’s National champion. The thought would be morbidly hilarious if Yuuri wasn't a part of it.

“Yuuri?” Celestino asks, looking concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Yes?” Yuuri wraps his jacket tighter around himself as if that would block out all his nerves and bad thoughts.

Celestino pats him on the back, a tactile force that manages to slightly ground Yuuri. “Just do your best out there. No matter what happens, know you did well.”

Yuuri nods, thinking back to the advice Yuri gave yesterday. Could he afford to simplify his jumps? Calculating the score he would need in order to win, he probably could. But should he?

He glances at Celestino who is currently on the phone, most likely lecturing the juniors. His poor coach would probably have a heart attack if Yuuri did anything too drastic, but a few changes here and there couldn’t hurt, right?

“Next up is Katsuki Yuuri, performing an original piece titled ‘Yuri on ICE!!!’. Skater Katsuki’s program will be the last of the evening.”

“Do you think Skater Kastuki can beat Skater Minami?”

“Skater Minami was last year’s winner, but Skater Kastuki has almost beaten his personal best in this competition. I say it all comes down to how nervous he is. As we all know, Skater Katsuki’s nerves tend to get the best of him.”

“Well, let’s hope that doesn’t happen this time around.”

As the piano notes begin to play, Yuuri moves in tandem, feeling himself glide on the ice. This routine has jumps in both the first and second half, with an intermission in between. First up was a quad toe-double toe combination, which went well enough. Next was supposed to be a quad Salchow, but…

“Skater Katsuki has turned his quad into a triple!”

His quad Salchow was always shaky, and Yuuri could never do one without barely not under-rotating, as Yuri often liked to point out. It was better to get fewer points than to take a risk he knows wouldn’t pay off and might potentially harm him.

A triple loop-triple Axel-triple flip came next. At first, doing so many jumps in a row made him dizzy and nauseous, but after months of practice, he had mastered it. That was the last jump in the first half of his routine. 

Yuuri briefly lets his mind wander, wondering if Yuri was watching. The teen should be in practice right now, but he did text Yuuri earlier. Maybe Yuri’s managed to convince Coach Feltsmen to let him have a break. Allowing himself to not hyper-focus on his movements helps Yuuri to relax, and he can feel his body slowly steady itself.

Hearing the tempo pick up again, Yuuri snaps back into focus. In the second half, there were two combinations, a step sequence, and then the final jump. It represents Yuuri’s climb back up from the very bottom, from the failure that was Sochi and the following competitions. Once you hit rock bottom, there was nowhere to go but up, and Yuuri was going to _fly._

The last key hits and Yuuri raises his arms to the sky, reaching out to whatever lies beyond.

He sighs in relief as he steps off the ice, glad he didn’t mess up his performance. Celestino meets him at the barrier, handing him water and his jacket. Yuuri gratefully accepts them, pulling out his phone to see a slew of texts from his family and friends who had been texting him their commentaries while he skated.

“Yuuri,” Celestino says, a smile on his face. “That was your best performance yet.”

“Even with the triple Salchow?”

“Even with the triple Salchow. I have to admit, I was a bit surprised, but I have a feeling everything’s going to turn out fine.”

Celestino sits Yuuri down at the kiss and cry, and they wait together in anticipation for the judges to finish. Yuuri is both exhausted and hyped up on adrenaline, and while he doesn’t make a face at the approaching reporter, he certainly wants to.

“How do you feel about your free skate, Skater Katsuki?”

“I think it went well.” Yuuri smiles. “I’ve been training hard, and I’m glad it paid off.”

“Do you believe you can win against Skater Minami?”

“I’d certainly like to try.”

Over the speaker, the announcer says, “The results are in. For his free skate, Skater Katsuki is awarded 165.20 points, giving him a total of 258.56! Skater Katsuki has taken first place!”

Cheers erupt from the stands, and Yuuri feels tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Celestino shakes his shoulder, a broad grin on his face.

“Congratulations Skater Katsuki! Is there anything you’d like to say?”

Yuuri smiles at the camera. “See you in Barcelona?”

\- - - -

As he promised, Yuuri went to dinner with the other three skaters, who congratulated him on his win. Minami almost burst into tears, though he was promised they were of joy. 

“Yuuri-kun, you were so cool!" he exclaims, grasping Yuuri's arm. "You have to win the Grand Prix for Japan, okay?”

Yuuri laughs, reaching up to adjust his glasses. He hadn’t had them on all day, and the familiar weight on the bridge on his nose was comforting after a day of wearing itchy contacts.

“I’ll try my best, I suppose. You did well too, Minami. I loved your music choice.”

Minami’s eyes widen. “Really? Swing’s my favorite genre of music. I’m so glad you liked it!”

They end up going to an American BBQ joint, located at the very end of the street, away from all the other usual Japanese stores. Having been the only one to live in America for an extended period of time, Yuuri ended up being their unofficial guide. It was fun. It was less fun when Minami managed to get himself drunk, but it was still fun.

They stayed until closing time, then walked back together. The night was dark, but the warm light from the street lamps lit up their way back. The four of them separated, each heading to their respective floor for the night. Yuuri opens the door to his room, draping his jacket over his headboard, the gold medal he earned today laying on the desk.

He heads into the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed, letting out a content sigh when the warm water hit his skin. After a competition, he always found himself longing for his family’s hot springs, and since he was too scared of bathing in hotels, a shower was the best alternative.

As he was drying his hair, the phone rang, playing a cheerful electronic tune. After seeing who it was, Yuuri sets down his hairdryer and answers the phone.

“Hello?”

“I told you so.”

Yuuri lets out a fond sigh. “So you did.”

“I saw your kiss and cry. If you don’t make it to Barcelona, I’ll come find you and kick your ass.”

“Please,” Yuuri chortles. “Your coach will never let you.”

“Who says I’m going to tell him?”

Yuuri shrugs off his jacket before flopping onto his bed. “Yuri!”

“What?”

“It’s almost 12 here. Which means you should be home right now.”

“Yes?”

“So why can I hear your rink mates in the background?”

“You can hear them?” Yuri growls. “Excuse me for just one second.”

Through the phone, Yuuri can hear a muffled, “Shut up!”, in Russian; it was one of the many vocabulary words he had picked up, what with Yuri screaming it so often.

Laughter filters through, and the sound is unmuffled once more and Yuri returns his attention to Yuuri. “They came over to bother me. I was trying to watch your free skate in peace, but Yakov said I couldn’t do it in the break room anymore after Victor also went missing.”

“What does that have to do with you?” Yuuri questions.

“My thought exactly,” Yuri grumbles. “But he made me wait till after practice, and then they followed me back, saying that they wanted to watch with me.”

“W-what?”

“Don’t worry, I got Potya to scare them away. Then Yakov, the old fart, said that since they were already here they might as well stay for dinner. And Lilia agreed!”

“At least they’re getting along.” Yuuri had heard all about Lilia and her infamous divorce from Minako, who only occasionally met up with the women, but gossiped with her all the time.

“Yeah, but only to torture me!”

Yuuri settles in as Yuri continues to ramble on, feeling warm. Like his glasses, Yuri’s voice was comforting, a familiar presence after a day of strangers, even in a place like Japan.

“Katsudon, are you listening?”

“When do I not listen?”

“Every single day I’m alive, and then some. Even though I’m always right.”

“Always? Need I remind you who helps you with your English homework?”

“Shut up.”

\- - - -

After a gruesome early flight, Yuuri’s back in America, now training harder than ever for the Grand Prix at the Detroit Skating Club. It is there that Celestino hands him the rink’s phone, saying that someone was asking for him.

“This is Yuuri Katsuki speaking.”

“Yuuri!”

“Sensei?” he asks, picking up his water bottle. It was finally break time, and Yuuri, being the idiot he was, decided that he didn’t need to be hydrated before practice. “Why are you calling through the rink phone?”

“I have a surprise for you, but I wanted to ask your coach first. He said yes, so now I’m asking you!”

Yuuri blinks. What was so important that Minako needed Celestino’s permission. “Okay, what is it?”

“Well, Lilia’s planning on hosting a training camp for professional dancers, and she wanted me to come help her.”

“That’s nice? But Sensei, what does this have to do with me?” Yuuri asks. He’s not a dancer by any means. Sure, he’s a bit flexible, but Yuuri doesn’t have nearly as much discipline as a dancer, nor the snark towards his fellow competitors.

“I’m inviting you along! Lilia’s using her studio from when she and Yakov were still married, so there’s a rink connected to it! It’s not Olympic-sized or anything, but it’s still a decent size. Plus, you’ll be one of the only ones there! The others might use it occasionally; Lilia does love to force her students onto the ice as punishment, but generally, it will all be yours!”

“That sounds great Sensei, but I have to train for the Grand Prix. Assignments come out next month, and I can’t afford to slack off.”

“Slack off? What you’ve been slacking off on are your stretches! Normal people may think you’re as flexible as the wind, but I know you’re actually a concrete brick.”

Yuuri coughs, almost spitting out his drink. “A brick?”

“I already asked Celestino; he says it’s fine as long as you continue to practice. Something about you not even using him and instead relying on your phone friend?”

“Use him? That seems kind of harsh.”

“He’s your coach, Yuuri. You’re supposed to use him to help yourself grow. Think about it! Plus, Lilia will be bringing her little project.” Minako adds, which only adds to Yuuri’s worry.

“Little project?”

“He’s another skater, like you. Real grumpy apparently. His coach hired her to teach him ballet. I didn’t even know Lilia accepted skaters.”

“I’ll go.” Yuuri blurts out. “When is it?”

“Really? I’ll send you the details. What’s with the sudden yes?”

Yuuri laughs. “Nothing much. Just thought it’d be nice to have a change of scenery. And you’re right, I am like a brick.”

By the time Minako hangs up, Yuuri is smiling so widely that his face hurts. Celestino gives him a grin, happy that Yuuri looks so elated. It’s a shame he only knows half the reason why.

Russia. He was going to Russia to train with Minako and Lilia Baranovskaya. Lilia Baranovskaya, a prima ballerina assoluta who’s bringing along a little grumpy skater, even though she doesn’t usually take on skaters. He must have had a special connection to her; say, an ex-husband who happens to be his coach?

Yuri. Yuuri’s going to get to see his friend in the flesh for the first time since they parted ways in Sochi almost two years ago.

Somehow his smile manages to get even bigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the canon, Yuuri bumps his head, but we're not having that here. I imagine crashing your head into a wall will take away as many points as turning a quad into a triple would, if not more, so Yuuri's going to keep his original score minus the point I took away last chapter because he can't do a proper Salchow yet.
> 
> To any ballet dancers out there: I'm sorry! I'm sure you're all nice folks, but you scare me and I can totally see you all being mean to your competition, and only your competition so it's even worse?
> 
> A prima ballerina assoluta is the highest level a female ballet dancer can earn. Lilia seems op, so I figured she deserved the title. Anyone who actually does ballet, please feel free to correct me. I tried ballet once as a child and quit because I hated stretching so much, so respect to all of you.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. I Shall Never Return (To the Poison Called Loneliness)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angry Kitten: i-
> 
> Yuuri: Do you not like it?
> 
> Yuuri: I think I did pretty well.
> 
> Angry Kitten: you are so dead
> 
> Yuuri: Why?
> 
> Yuuri: Yuri??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been raining nonstop, and my internet keeps flickering on and off, which really isn't helpful when you're trying to connect to your classes. On the bright side, guess who passed their chem test? I know, I _am_ a genius.
> 
> We've finally reached the long-awaited meetup chapter! Please enjoy!
> 
> Edited! Didn't take as long as chapter 6, but chapter 6 did also take multiple days, so the bar's set pretty low. Merry Christmas btw, though this was technically edited the day after.

“Yuuri!” Minako shouts, waving to him from the inside of a sleek silver car. “Get in!”

Yuuri waves back, stepping into the backseat while dragging his suitcase along. His shoulders relax, relieved he’s finally able to sit down after getting off the plane and going through customs.

“How was your flight?”

“It was fine. There was a baby on board and he wouldn’t stop crying.”

“How unfortunate.” a prim voice drawls out. Yuuri snaps in head up at the sound, familiar enough with the voice he often hears when Yuri ditches ballet practice to speak to him instead.

“Madame Baranovskaya!” Yuuri stutters out, dropping his head to form some semblance of a bow. “It’s an honor to meet you!”

“You may refer to me as Lilia,” she greets back. “Minako has spoken highly of you. I look forward to seeing you perform.”

Minako grins. “I showed her your old dances. You were so cute as a little kid!”

Lilia hums in agreement as Yuuri feels his face flush. “Sensei, please…”

The car starts up, Lilia driving while Minako fidgets with the cords upfront.

St. Petersberg really was a beautiful city. Yuuri looks out the window, admiring the scenery passing before his eyes when suddenly his phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Katsudon!”

Yuuri’s face lights up as he tries to hide his smile. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Yakov’s throwing me away to his ex-wife and she’s forcing me to attend her stupid ballet camp after lunch! And he decided to spring this on me the day of!”

Stifling a laugh, Yuuri replies, “You already practice ballet after lunch though. And, if Coach Feltsmen had told you earlier you would’ve been throwing a fit the entire week. ”

“Yeah, but the camp has people. People!”

“Maybe you’ll make a new friend?” Yuuri suggests.

“I doubt it,” Yuri huffs. “How did your flight go? Has your teacher picked you up yet?”

Yuuri told him that Minako had invited him to visit her for a couple of weeks, which wasn’t exactly a lie per se; he had just let Yuri assume that Minako was still in Japan.

“Mn, she just picked me up,” Yuuri says. “We’re going to a ballet studio.”

“A studio? Not a rink?”

“Sensei said I was like a brick, so she wanted me to practice on land first.”

“I wish you were here. Then we could at least suffer in ballet together.” Yuri grumbles.

“Cheer up! At least there are a couple of hours before lunch.”

“I hate it here,” Yuri grumbles. “Everyone better stay out of my way today, or I will slice their fa― _hey!_ ”

There’s the crinkling sound of the phone being shuffled around and muffled voices. Suddenly, a new voice comes through the phone.

“Hello? Is this the Katsudon?” There’s a distinctive Russian accent, and Yuuri feels as if he’s heard it before.

“This is Yuuri Katsuki. Who are you?”

“Me? I am Yura’s coach.”

“Coach Feltsman! I am so sorry, did I keep Yuri from practice?”

Yuri’s voice pops up from the background and Coach Feltsman shoots something back in rapid Russian before speaking once more to Yuuri. “Do not worry. Yura must attend something he does not wish to. My ex-wife has no sympathy for reckless children; I fear he will act rashly and get himself kicked out.”

“Is that Yakov?” Lilia asks from the front, not taking her eyes off the road. “Tell him I will wrangle the boy into the perfect prima ballerina whether he likes it or not.”

Yuuri repeats her words to Coach Feltsman, who lets out a surprised sound. “Why is she there?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Well,” Yuuri says. “I’m actually in St. Petersburg right now, with Madame Lilia.”

“Ane me!”

“Yes, and my former ballet teacher. I plan on practicing in Madame Lilia’s studio for a couple of weeks. It’s supposed to be a surprise for Yuri, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell him.”

“I see. Well, it seems I do not have to worry about Yura anymore.”

Faintly, Yuuri can hear, “Who said you have to worry about me in the first place?”, which must’ve come from Yuri.

“Thank you for your assistance. Yuri must begin practice, but I have no doubt you two will talk later.”

“Of course! Tell Yuri I said bye.”

Coach Feltsman makes a vague grunt of agreement and hangs up. Yuuri drops his phone into his lap, slowly processing what had just happened.

“Isn’t he just so brash? Completely emotionless.” Lilia says.

“Except for anger, that is.” Minako scoffs, causing Lilia to snicker in amusement. 

“Just like that danseur, Nicholas.”

“Nicholas managed to sleep his way through the corps de ballet, twice,” Minako says, holding up two fingers to emphasize her point.

“I don’t know why anyone would want to have another go with him.”

“Maybe they like his grumpiness.”

“Probably think that they can change him through the art of love and seduction.”

“He’s even managed to charm one of their soloists! Who was it again?”

“Andriy. The transfer from Ukraine.” Lilia reminds her.

“Poor boy. I heard Nicholas was heavily flirting with a principal dancer in front of him.”

Lilia clicks her tongue. “Shameless!”

Yuuri coughs and looks off the side, resigning himself to a car ride full of gossip. He knew Minako liked to chat with her friends, but it was never this bad.

Eventually, they make it to the hotel, where Lilia and Minako drop Yuuri off before leaving to find a parking space for Lilia’s car. Yuuri checks in and drops off his bags, then hastily returns downstairs once more. Most of the dancers here for Lilia’s camp are staying at the same hotel as him, and he watches as they form a big group, mingling amongst themselves.

They’re all carrying their bags with them, neatly packed and hanging off a shoulder. Yuuri’s is more rigid, and it gets dragged behind as he moves. It’s what he usually brings to his competitions, but now it makes him stand out and he wishes he had just used his gym bag instead.

One of the dancers break off from their group and approach him. She looms over Yuuri, with ashy blonde hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. 

“Hello,” Yuuri says, trying not to look and sound as scared as he is.

She smiles at him, shattering her cool demeanor. If Yuuri’s shoulders sag in relief, well, no one has to know. “Hi! What company are you from?”

“Oh, I don’t really have a company, but I train in America.”

“America? What a coincidence, my company’s in Detroit.”

“Really? I live there.”

“No way, that’s so cool! C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the others.”

She drags Yuuri over to the rest of the dancers, who are eyeing him curiously. Eventually, they seem to deem him acceptable and move on, going back to talking with their peers.

“So Yuuri, what rank are you?” someone asks.

“Just a trainee, I’m kind of new to this sort of thing,” he replies. A decade of not using ballet terminology has finally caught up to him, and as he stutters out answers Yuuri hopes he isn’t making a complete fool of himself.

Luckily, Lilia and Minako walk in before he can embarrass himself any further. Instantly, the group quiets and turns their attention to the two.

“Good morning. I am Lilia Baranovskaya and this is Minako Okukawa. We will be two of your instructors during your time here. Madame Okukawa will be leading the corps de ballet, and I will be instructing the soloists and principals. We expect the utmost courtesy and any disrespect will not be tolerated.”

She jerks her head towards the exit. “We will be leaving now; follow your respective teacher.”

Yuuri starts to make his way towards Minako, but before he can Lilia barks out, "Yuuri, with me.”

Flushing, he nods and turns around, joining the back of the group. One who had previously spoken to him gives him a surprised look. “I thought you were a trainee?”

“I thought so too.” Yuuri sighs as she pats him on the shoulder consolingly. They walk towards the parking lot, where two buses await them. Lilia boards the second one and they follow, placing their bags in the compartment above them.

Yuuri tries to sneak to the back, but there’s already a group in the back. In the middle is a young man, lounging back with all the confidence of JJ and then some. He’s surrounded by a gaggle of people, some of whom are talking to each other and some who are just glaring at those around him.

He locks eyes with the man in the middle, who throws him a blinding smile that sets off alarm bells in Yuuri. The man raises his hand, curling a finger towards himself in a "come hither" motion. Now, the bells were ringing throughout Yuuri's head and were all he could hear.

Yeah, no thanks. Yuuri hurries away before more of them notice him, and slides into the seat in the front. He distracts himself by rewatching his National performances, noting the mistakes he made.

The trip to Lilia’s studio is a short, five-minute drive, and Yuuri gets off before the others, watching as the rest of them trickle off as well.

“Come along,” Lilia says, entering the building. The inside is a small lounge area, with hallways that lead to separate rooms.

Lilia opens a door with the sign “Locker Rooms” above it, and motions for them to enter. “This will be the first and last time I guide you here. You are all adults and will be responsible for joining your peers on time.

As the dancers head into the room, Lilia holds out an arm in Yuuri's direction, stopping him from following. To him, she gestures towards a separate door at the end of the hallway. “That leads to the rink. I suggest you put your belongings there and join us in Studio 3.”

Yuuri nods, hurrying off. The locker room is empty, and Yuuri simply sets his bag down on the bench instead of storing it in a locker. He quickly changes and slips on his shoes before bumping into the tall girl from earlier, who was waiting by the second door on the left.

“I can’t believe Madame Baranovskaya is our instructor!” she squeals. “She’s been my idol since forever. Meeting her might be the greatest moment of my life!”

“I’m glad.” Yuuri smiles. “Sometimes meeting your idol doesn’t go well. Trust me, I know from experience.”

"Who was yours?"

"This figure skater I follow. Kind of pretended I didn't exist."

"Ouch."

They head inside and Yuuri sucks in a deep breath. The studio was huge, almost as big as an Olympic-sized rink. Bright lights shine down from all corners of the ceiling bouncing off the metal legs of the ballet bars scattered around the room. Lilia struts up to the front of the room and claps her hands. “I want neat rows! Hurry up, we don’t have all day.”

They scramble to take their positions, occasionally bumping into each other. Yuuri pairs up with a freckled man who looks about his age, waving at him before turning his attention back to the front. Once Lilia looks over them and is satisfied, nodding her head, she starts class.

Never had Yuuri been so _drained_ in his life, more so emotionally than physically. While they practice, Lilia walks around the room, barking out critiques and comments. Even though they weren’t all directed at him, Yuuri feels his soul break a little more at every word leave her mouth.

When they let out for lunch, Yuuri is all but dying to get onto the ice. Some of the dancers stay behind for Lilia’s extra lessons, but Yuuri rushes into the locker room to change his shoes and go out for lunch.

He orders a pirozhki, scarfs it down on a bench outside the building, then heads back into the lockers room, lacing on his skates and stretching before finally stepping onto the ice for the first time that day. Yuuri warms up by doing some simple double and triples before throwing himself into his routines. 

He sets up his camera stand, placing his phone on top and pressing the record button. Knowing that it would be Yuri watching, he smiles at the camera. “Hey! We’re in a new place today, and I’ve got the rink to myself. I’m going to try Eros again, and hopefully, my quads work this time. Wish me luck!”

Yuuri hurries to the middle as the violin starts up through the speakers. One of the benefits of being alone is that he doesn’t have to listen to anyone else’s music and can play his as loudly as he likes. As much as he adores "The Skater and The King", there’s only so many times he can listen to it, especially when Phichit plays it even if he’s _not_ practicing.

Yuuri can tell he’s improving; his transitions are smoother and he spins in the air more gracefully. Slowly, he starts to relax and enjoy the feeling of the air whizzing by him instead of hyper-focusing on his every movement. He even ups the seductive dynamic of the piece, twisting and spinning more passionately than before.

When he sends the video to Yuri, the teenager replies almost immediately, but his reaction wasn’t what Yuuri expected.

_ Angry Kitten: i- _

_Yuuri: Do you not like it?_

_Yuuri: I think I did pretty well._

_ Angry Kitten: you are so dead _

_Yuuri: Why?_

_Yuuri: Yuri??_

Yuri doesn’t reply after that. Yuuri’s chest tightens a bit, but he calms himself down enough to return to practice. The previous looseness is gone; now he can't stop thinking about Yuri's response and what it meant. Eventually, he slips up enough that Yuuri decides he needs a break.

At around 4, he heads out of the rink and into the front area to get a snack. Lilia’s stocked her cabinets with dried fruits and nuts, and her refrigerator with fresh fruit and liquids. Yuuri grabs a pack of dried strawberries and tries to slink back into the rink before anyone notices him.

“Katsudon!”

_Huh?_

That’s strange. Yuuri didn’t think he called Yuri, but it quite obviously the boy’s voice. Maybe he accidentally pressed the call button?

Nevertheless, he turns around, not expecting to see anyone. Instead, he spies a blur of pale blonde hair as someone jumps onto him. Yuuri yelps, dropping his food as he wraps his arms around the person once he figures out who it is. He's warm, and fills Yuuri with a familiar sense of happiness and comfort.

“Yuri!” he grins. “What are you doing here?”

Yuri lifts his head from where he was banging it on Yuuri’s shoulder to glare at him. “What am I doing here? I live here! What are _you_ doing here?”

“Minako-sensei brought me along for ballet camp!” Yuuri laughs. Yuri gapes at him, rearing his head back to headbutt Yuuri’s shoulder once more.

“Hey!” Yuuri lifts his arm to rub at his wound, and Yuri slips back onto the ground, crossing his arms. Behind him, Yuuri spots a lone sports bag with skates peaking out from the top.

“You tricked me!” Yuri accuses, puffing his cheeks out in a pout. “You said you’d be in Japan.”

“Actually,” Yuuri corrects. “I said I was visiting Minako-sensei. You just assumed I was in Japan.”

“Katsudon,” Yuri groans, tugging on his sleeve. “You’ve become corrupt.”

“Who’s the one who corrupted me?” Yuuri teases back, nudging Yuri with his now healed shoulder.

Yuri hmphs, looking away, and Yuuri chuckles. Slowly, a small smile creeps onto Yuri’s face, though he doesn’t seem to notice.

“How was your class?” Yuuri asks, reaching down to pick up his crushed strawberries. He starts for the rink again, and Yuri follows, picking up his bag from the floor.

“I hate them all.” Yuri declares. “They keep staring at me. ”

“It must be because you’re better than them.”

“Of course,” he scoffs. “Why else?”

They enter the rink and Yuri bounces around on the balls of his feet. “I want to watch you skate.”

“You’ve seen me skate so many times.”

“I’ve never seen you skate without a screen though,” Yuri says. “And now that my rink mates aren’t here, I can watch you in peace.”

“They seem fun. Play Yuri on ICE!!! for me.”

“They aren’t.” Yuri huffs, pulling out his phone and playing the music Yuuri requested. 

For the next couple of minutes, the rink is solely filled with the routine music, Yuuri too focused on not messing up and Yuri too focused on avidly watching Yuuri to comment anything.

As the last note hits and Yuuri moves to get off the ice, Yuri hands him his skate guards and starts talking. “Your combos got better, but I have to teach you the Salchow. Yours is absolutely unacceptable.”

“You’ve tried, remember?”

“Yeah, through video. Now I can punch you if you mess up.”

“And that will help me?” Yuuri asks, pushing the end of his water bottle towards Yuri’s cheek. In response, Yuri turns his head and pushes back.

“Of course it will. I have the best quad Salchow out of all of us.” Yuri frowns. “Well, except for Victor, I guess. But he can’t teach for shit.”

“Yuri, have you ever heard of the pot calling the kettle black?”

“Yura.”

“Huh?”

Yuuri glances over at Yuri, who once again is refusing to meet his eyes. “Call me Yura. If Victor can, then you have every right to.”

Yuuri pauses for a moment to process what he just heard, then lets out a soft grin. Yuri looks up and returns a hesitant, almost shy smile back.

“Alright then. Yura, pot calling the kettle black much?”

Yuri makes an affronted noise. “I am an excellent teacher.”

He presses the side of his arm towards Yuuri, who presses back. The warmth is new and familiar at the same time. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“I just couldn’t wait till Barcelona.”

“You are still going to Barcelona, though.” Yuri insists. “And then you and I are going to win together.”

Yuuri nods. “Together.”

In a bustling ballet studio set in St. Petersburg, there is an ice rink. In the corner of the rink, two friends, finally reunited, are pressed together, talking among themselves.

It is content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today was not my day for writing, but that might be because of what I wrote instead of me, myself, and I. To all the dancers out there, if I messed up any of the ballet terms, please correct me; I did research, but a direct source is always the best! The internet now also thinks that I want to buy figure skating equipment, which is fun. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Quiet Down, Heartbeat (Wrong, We're Savage)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the camp progresses, Yuuri makes some new friends, gets introduced to a creep, and watches with alongside Yuri as giraffes try to skate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This is really, really late. I originally planned to just do it tomorrow, but the deadline for one of my assignments got pushed back, so here we are. We had a creative writing assignment in English, and it led to indenting my draft, which led to my formatting having to be fixed.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Warning for a creepy guy. It's not technically noncon, but it kind of is? They very clearly don't want to be there basically, and the other one just keeps pushing on.
> 
> Edited! Might be the most edited chapter save for chapter one. I added more Morozov interactions so Yuuri's iffy-ness about him doesn't seem forced. Also changed Lilia calling Yuuri "Katsuki" to just Yuuri because I don't want to try and explain a name change, so we're just going to go first name. Sorry if it bothers you.

Yuuri wakes up right before his phone goes off, fumbling around on the bedside table until he manages to grab his phone and turns his alarm off. He then proceeds to stumble into the bathroom, where he comes out looking less like a walking disaster.

He contemplates taking breakfast in his room in order to avoid the rest of the dancers downstairs but ultimately decides against it. He already took lunch by himself every day, which got pretty lonely. There was no need to further isolate himself, especially when he's already been getting dirty looks when he declines Lilia's offers to join her class in the afternoon.

Yuuri heads downstairs, waving to his classmates from Lilia’s morning class. He would join, but once again, some of them didn’t seem to really like him. Instead, he takes his breakfast and sits in a quiet corner, watching the others. Some of them were sitting up with their back straight and head tilted up, looking graceful even at such early hours in the morning. Others, not so much; they lay their heads in their hands or directly on the table, trying to discretely take a nap before class starts.

“Hey. Mind if I sit here?”

Yuuri looks up to see the man from the back of the bus. His dark grey hair vaguely reminds him of Victor Nikiforov, which is disturbing, seen as his gut instinct is telling him that something is very off about the person in front of him. However, he doesn't want to be rude, and so Yuuri pushes aside his paranoia and gestures to the chair in front of him. "Sure, go ahead." 

“Thanks. So, what’s a beautiful guy like you doing by yourself?” he asks. Yuuri lets out a nervous chuckle, looking down at his plate. In his lap, the nails on his left hand are digging red marks into the opposite hand. 

“I like being by myself.” Yuuri shrugs.

“Oh, am I disturbing you?” His pale blue eyes keep staring at Yuuri, who tries his best not to squirm.

“No…”

“I’m glad,” he smiles, reaching out and brushing Yuuri's hair behind his ear, causing the Japanese man to flinch and slightly back away. “I wouldn’t want to put you in any discomfort.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly going well, now was it?

“So, what’s your name?” It seems as if he wanted to start a conversation, which Yuuri was highly against.

“Oh, I’m Yuuri Katsuki.”

“My name’s Nicholas Morozov. It’s nice to meet you, Yuri.”

“Yeah, same to you.” Would it be impolite to ask Morozov to refer to him as Katsuki? Yuuri doesn’t know why, but he wanted to avoid Morozov as much as possible.

"So, Doll—"

"Doll?"

"Well, since you're so pretty and all." Morozov's eyes trace him up and down, and Yuuri feels as if he's been put on show without his permission, the other's eyes tugging off his clothing and leaving him on display like an object. The gleam in Morozov's eyes, haughty and dark, is chilling, his tongue darts out to run along the side of his mouth, and _oh_ , Yuuri feels like he's going to be ill.

Seemingly not noticing the effect he was having, Morozov continues. “I’ve never seen you in class before. Are you a part of the corps de ballet?”

“Yes,” Yuuri says without much thought, just wanting the conversation to be over. “That’s why you’ve never seen me.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie. If he were to join a professional company, Yuuri would be at the lowest level. It's not his fault Lilia decided to take him under her wing, nor is he going to mention it to Morozov.

"What a shame," Morozov sighs. "It means my work isn't yet."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, it's just a little something I'd like to have under my belt. Say, what company do you belong to? I'd love to see you move that body of yours."

Yuuri is left staring wide-eyed at him, lips parted yet with nothing to say. Luckily, at that moment Lilia struts in, snapping her fingers twice. That was her warning bell; in five minutes, everyone should be ready to board the busses. If he wasn't preoccupied with trying to escape this uncomfortable situation, Yuuri would be bowing down at the ballet teacher's feet right now.

“I’ve got to go now.” Yuuri vaguely gestures to the exit sign, where some of his peers had already gathered.

“I’ll see you later, Doll,” Morozov says, giving him a half smirk-half smile. "You were a pleasure."

“You do that,” Yuuri murmurs, just barely not running to his destination. To be honest, he doesn't even know if he's going in the right location, and so long as he's moving away from his previous one, he doesn't really care. 

While hurrying away, he bumps into someone, almost toppling over before they reach out their hand to steady him. Yuuri tenses up, hunching in on himself before realizing who it is.

“You okay, Katsuki?”

“Zelensky!" Yuuri relaxes, though still backs away from the other's grasp. "Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for catching me!”

Andriy Zelensky was one of the soloists in his class. They paired up together on the first day but didn't really speak until Zelensky noticed that Yuuri was struggling with certain techniques they were practicing and took it upon himself to help him. It didn’t hurt that he was a fan of Victor Nikiforov.

“Ready for class?” he asks as he and Yuuri make their way to the bus, slipping into a seat in the front. Yuuri spots Morozov at back and ducks his head, trying to avoid his eyes.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. At least it’s almost the weekend.”

“Do you think Madame Baranovskaya will let us off easy today?”

Yuuri shakes his head. “I think we also have classes on the weekends.”

“I miss free time,” Zelensky pouts. “And not having to wake up at 6.”

“You still have free time in the evening.” Yuuri points out.

Zelensky flushes, turning his head to mumble something unintelligible. His ears are red, and he flips up his hood, pulling on the strings to hide his face entirely.

“You aren’t doing anything illegal, right?”

“It’s not illegal!” Zelensky protests, his voice muffled by through his clothing. “I’m, um, sleeping with someone?”

Yuuri lets out a cough, feeling his own face turn red. “You managed to find time to seduce someone, but still complain about not having free time?”

“More like I let him seduce me." Zelensky murmurs, looking vaguely distraught. "Plus, this started a couple of years back. I kind of have to if I want to keep talking to him.”

Alarm bells are ringing in Yuuri's head again. "You aren't being forced into anything, are you?"

"No, no, no, nothing like that! It's just a little difficult sometimes."

"You sure? We can tell Madame Lilia."

"I'm sure. But thank you for being concerned. Most of my other friends just wave it off since they've met him and like him."

Zelensky sounds uncomfortable talking about this, reminding Yuuri of his own predicament just half an hour ago. In fact, he can still feel Morozov's gaze on him, though that may have more to do with the man currently being on the same bus as him. “Alright then. So, I saw you looking at the rink door yesterday. Are you going to try skating?”

Perking up, Zelensky peaks through his hoodie, his eyes lighting up. “Maybe! I was watching Georgi Popovich, he’s a skater from Victor’s team, and watching his free skate inspired me. I might choreograph something that feels like it could be performed on ice.”

“I’m sure it’ll turn out great,” Yuuri reassures, patting him on the shoulder.

"I've shown some people my sketch ideas!" At this, Zelensky deflates, and his lips turn down into a frown. "They didn't really like it. Told me it was a dumb idea, and that I should just stick with other people's choreography instead."

Yuuri shakes his head. "I've seen your choreography before, and it's beautiful. Don't listen to them!"

"But..."

"No buts! You have to believe in yourself!"

At long last, Zelensky's smile returns. "Thanks, Katsuki."

They finish their conversation just in time for the bus to pull to a stop. Zelensky drags Yuuri off first, his chipper mood returned to him even if in bits and pieces. At the studio, Yuuri hurries to get in and out of his locker room. Being the only one in the room has its perks, and Yuuri is always the first one ready, not bothering to wait for the other dancers as he walks into Studio 3.

“Good morning Yuuri,” Lilia says, not looking up from the magazine he was reading. Her bag is laid behind her, with pages of corrected choreography peeking through the top.

“Madame Lilia,” he replies, bowing his head at her. “Zelensky wondered if we were to have an easy day today.”

She shoots him a deadpan look, raising one delicate eyebrow. “What do you think?”

“I told him no.”

She nods. “Good. Has little Yuri been treating you well?”

“Yura’s been great!” After practice, they would wander around town, Yuri pointing out local landmarks and shops he enjoys. They get dinner together, eating at a new place every night. It’s fun, and Yuuri finds he doesn’t have to overthink every decision he makes.

The other dancers start to trickle in, and Lilia snaps her magazine shut, watching as they head towards their assigned positions. Zelensky comes in, heading for the bar he and Yuuri share.

“Apparently our resident playboy’s got his eye on someone new,” he says, lowering his voice so as not to alert Lilia. The dancer's locker room is full of gossip, and although Yuuri isn’t a part of it, Zelensky tells him just about everything.

“Good luck to whoever it is.” Their "resident playboy" was an unnamed soloist from Russia taking classes under Madame Fonteyn, a friend of Lilia’s, at the same studio as Yuuri. He’s infamous for leaving a string of broken hearts behind him, flitting from one person to another as he sees fit.

“Good luck indeed,” Zelensky says, grimacing.

Class seems to pass by slower than usual, and by the time lunch comes, Yuuri’s just about ready to head back to his hotel room and just sleep for a day.

Today, he brought his own lunch: a pair of sandwiches he bought after dinner last night. Going out to eat was great and all, but sometimes Yuuri didn’t want to have to struggle through basic Russian to order.

As he sits down at an empty table, the rest of the dancers already having gone out, he hears a familiar voice from the morning. “Yuri!”

Yuuri closes his eyes, letting out a soft sigh before turning around to face Morozov. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

Morozov grins, leaning into Yuuri's space and wrapping an arm around him. Yuuri shakes him off, giving him a polite smile turned grimace. “I came to look for you. Do you want to go out for lunch together?”

“I actually have my own.” Yuuri holds up his food, grateful to his past self for thinking ahead. Right now, his poor sandwiches were the only thing between him and unwanted social interaction.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! What do say, Doll?” 

Yuuri leans back as Morozov once again steps closer, the grey-haired man smirking at him.

“No thank you.”

"Are you sure? We could have a little fun together. I'm sure you'll like it."

"Yeah, pretty sure. I'm not really interested in whatever you're trying to offer."

"Aww," Morozov drawls out. "That's cute. Take a little responsibility, Doll. Your body is simply irresistible."

"Um—"

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing? Get away from him you greasy, mangily pig.”

Yuuri jerks his head towards the door, where the familiar voice came from. There stands Yuri with a vicious scowl on his face and his skates slung behind him, resting on his shoulders.

“Who are you?” Morozov asks. “Are you lost? The junior camp is across the street.”

“Who are you calling a junior, shithead?" Yuri snaps. "Back off from Katsudon, or I’ll hit you with my knife shoes.”

“Katsudon? I’m sure you’re mistaken. My friend Yuri and I were simply talking about lunch plans.” Morozov reaches his hand out towards Yuuri, brushing his hand past Yuuri’s cheek. “Right, Doll?”

Yuuri suddenly stands up, moving over to stand behind Yuri, placing his hands on the blonde's shoulders. “Sorry Morozov, but I’m eating lunch with my friend today.”

“Yeah, so leave,” Yuri adds, glaring at Morozov and pointing at the exit.

Morozov sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, I do love a chase. See you later, Doll. Think about my offer.”

“If I ever see you again it will not be pretty,” Yuri warns. Morozov simply chuckles, waving him off.

After Morozov leaves, Yuri looks up at him, the worry evident on his face. “What the hell Katsudon? Why was a wannabe Victor harassing you?”

“Morozov? I met him at breakfast today. He’s kind of creepy.” Yuuri admits as Yuri scoffs.

“Well, let’s hope Moron-zov doesn’t show up again.”

"Hopefully." Yuuri guides Yuri to a different table. "Forget about him. Have you eaten yet? You showed up pretty early.”

“Yakov let me off early today; he said since Milia and Georgi were goofing off, they had to do drills. I ate while watching them run laps and cry to Yakov.”

“Sounds fun,” Yuuri remarks.

“Very.”

\- - - -

After lunch, they part, Yuri heading into the studio Yuuri was previously in, and Yuuri entering the rink. However, after around an hour and a half of practice, he gets interrupted by Lilia storming in with her group of dancers following behind, each with a pair of ice skates in hand. He spots Yuri scowling in the back and waves at him, the teenager waving back before going back to glaring at his classmates.

“Madame Lilia!" Yuuri says, skating up to the barrier. "What can I do for you?”

“I know you’re training for the Grand Prix, but I need the rink for some time,” she says, lips pursed. “My dancers have been less than satisfactory, to say the least, and they’re wasting both my time and theirs by being so lax. So I’ve decided that if they want to act like graceless giraffes, they will do so on the rink.”

“Is this the only reason why you kept the rink in shape?” Yuuri asks.

“Now you get it,” she replies before turning to face her dancers and snapping. “Hurry up and lace your skates; I want all of you on the ice in five minutes.”

“Um, Madame? We don’t know how to tie them.” one of the dancers in the front says.

Lilia directs her gaze towards her, and she shrinks back, letting out a little squeak.

“Yuri, both of you. Help these giraffes out.”

Yuri scoffs. “It’s like tying your shoes. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to do that?”

Yuuri sighs, reaching for his skate guards. He steps off the ice, surveying the sea of classmates in front of him. “I’ll need a volunteer.”

Someone raises their hand, and Yuuri smiles once he sees that it's Zelensky. He sits him down on the bleachers where everyone can see him. Zelensky slips off his ballet flats and puts on his unlaced skates, then looks at Yuuri for assistance with the rest of the process.

“As much as I hate to admit it, it is like tying your shoes.” Ignoring Yuri’s smug face, he pushes on. “The thing is, you have to pull on the laces at each eye. These skates have to fit you tightly. If not, it’ll be harder to skate and you might get injured.”

He demonstrates what he just said on Zelensky, twisting his hands in an awkward position as to not block the view from the other dancers. Yuuri finishes it off by tying a bow and tucking it into the skate, nodding in satisfaction.

“Do you feel how tight it is?” he asks Zelensky, who nods. “Try to recreate that feeling on your left skate.”

Zelensky gets to work, then holds out his leg for Yuuri to check. He tugs on the laces, humming in approval as they don’t budge. “Good. You’re ready to get on the ice. As for everyone else, Madame Lilia can probably check if it’s tight enough.”

Lilia sighs, but eventually nods, waving her dancers towards the bleachers.

Yuuri stands up, straightening out his jacket. Zelensky makes to follow him but stumbles as soon as he’s upright. He holds onto Yuuri for support, taking slow steps towards the rink.

“I didn’t know you knew how to skate,” he said. “No wonder you never show up for afternoon classes.”

They reach the edge of the rink and Zelensky grabs the barrier, holding on tightly. Now free, Yuuri glides onto the ice, watching in amusement as Zelensky hesitantly takes a step onto the ice, almost slips, then hastily hugs the wall, trying his best not to fall.

Lilia glances over at them, crinkling her nose after seeing Zelensky’s attempt at balancing. “How inelegant.”

Slowly, the rest of the dancers also step on the ice. They follow in Zelensky’s direction, grabbing the barrier and sliding to the side, allowing for the next dancer to go on.

Yuri, who has been watching from the back of the line of dancers waiting to go on, suddenly huffs and walks up to the front. He casually strolls onto the ice, skating towards Yuuri.

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbles. “They all look like idiots.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Madame Lilia,” Yuuri replies, nudging at Yuri with his elbow.

Yuri scoffs, nudging him back. “I’m going to do my short program, and you’re going to watch.”

“And the dancers? What if you bump into one of them?” Yuuri asks, knowing full well it most likely would not happen.

“As if.” Yuri turns towards Lilia. “Hey, play my music.”

“Yuri Plisetsky, you are in ballet right now!” Lilia admonishes. 

“And the ballerinas are all skaters now. What’s your point?”

“Why don’t you try skating without music?” Yuuri suggests. “We both know it well enough.”

Yuri sighs, not replying and instead bowing his head into the starting position for On Love: Agape. Even though there isn’t any real music, Yuuri can hear the melody in his head as Yuri skates. Lilia is watching as well, eyes narrowing as she spots some of the dancers sitting down on the ice.

“I want you all off the wall after Yuri stops,” Lilia says to them. Most of them look terrified, which is understandable. As Yuri’s movement slows down, they clutch at the barrier even tighter.

Yuuri skates over to Yuri, who was lightly panting and rolling his shoulders back. “Good job! Your step sequences are getting smoother.”

“Thanks. So, are they going to do anything or what?” Yuri replies, gesturing towards their classmates.

One of them pushes off. Another follows. Slowly, all the dancers are a few feet away from the wall, holding out their arms for support.

Then they all collectively slip and fall.

Shrieks fill the air as they try to reach for support in the empty air. Some fall on their knees, but most on their backside, arms still in the air.

Lilia sniffs, crossing her arms. “Giraffes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please note: Morozov thinks Yuuri's name is Yuri and thus will refer to him as such. The doll nickname eludes to how Asians are fetishized. Yuuri's polite, pretty, and so anxious he won't speak up for himself (for now). In conclusion, all of you should hate this guy.
> 
> The ice skating punishment is something I thought of. Ballerinas pride themselves on having grace and elegance, so fumbling around on the ice in front of their instructor would probably be humiliating.
> 
> (future author here: is this the beginning of my overly long end notes? I think it is)


	9. A Dangerous Start (Correct, We're Savage)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He approaches Zelensky, who is staring at him with his mouth open, his dark hair messily sitting on his shoulders. Yuuri gives him a shy smile, which seems to snap him out of it. 
> 
> “What the hell Katsuki?! I thought you were going to do doubles or something. Your Axel was amazing! And your Salchow—”
> 
> “Used to be absolute shit, is still absolute shit, and will forever be absolute shit unless you get your ass over here, Katsudon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for not posting last week, was feeling a bit unwell, but we're back! Please enjoy! There's a long author's note at the end, read if you don't have anything else to do.
> 
> Edited! I left to go eat dinner, so this has been stewing for some time. Still not as long as chapter 6 though.

“Can you skate like Plisetsky can?”

Yuuri looks up to see Zelensky standing next to him, arms flailing about in an attempt to balance himself. “I can skate. Maybe not as well as Yura, but I can manage.”

Zelensky’s eyes brighten. “Really? Can you do jumps?”

“Sure! Which one?”

Zelensky shrugs. “What about the Salchow? Oh, and the Axel! It’s my favorite. I usually can't tell without my glasses, but I’m wearing contacts today, so I see clear as day!”

Yuuri nods, trying not to laugh. “I’ll start with the Axel then.”

He skates away, slowly gaining speed before throwing himself into the air, crossing his arms over his chest, and counting the three and a half rotations before landing. Yuuri wonders what it would be like to land a quad axel. Whoever could manage would have to have insane amounts of both power and stamina if they were to use it in competitions, but it could boost their score if pulled off correctly.

Then came his Salchow. Like his Axel, Yuuri gains speed before jumping off, counting his barely four rotations, then landing, holding out his arms straight.

He approaches Zelensky, who is staring at him with his mouth open, his dark hair messily sitting on his shoulders. Yuuri gives him a shy smile, which seems to snap him out of it. 

“What the hell Katsuki?! I thought you were going to do doubles or something. Your Axel was amazing! And your Salchow—”

“Used to be absolute shit, is still absolute shit, and will forever be absolute shit unless you get your ass over here, Katsudon.”

“Yura, not everyone can pull off quads like you.” Nevertheless, he glides over to Yuri, who Zelensky is watching with a look of awe on his face.

“You’re Yuri Plisetsky!”

“What’s it to you?” Yuri asks, side-eyeing the Ukrainian dancer.

“Don’t you share a coach with Victor Nikiforov?”

At the mention of the world-class skater, Yuri’s face darkens and he scowls, turning away.

“Yura’s also the gold medalist of last year’s Junior Grand Prix, and he’s debuting in seniors with multiple quads under his belt!” Yuuri hastily adds, drawing Yuri back by putting his hands on his shoulders and gently sliding him towards Zelensky. 

“Yura, this is Zelensky. Zelensky, Yuri. Don’t mind Zelensky, he’s a big fan of Nikiforov.”

“It’s nice to meet you!” Zelensky says, waving at Yuri.

Yuri nods before turning back to face Yuuri. “Short program.”

“My short? Not my free skate?”

Yuri gets a look in his eye that Yuuri has come to associate with trouble. “You’re more embarrassed of your short program. I’m helping you remedy that.”

"Are you trying to torture me?"

"Think of it as a training program. Go on, try and seduce them."

“Yura, I have _class_ with these people tomorrow!” Yuuri points out, feeling his cheeks heat up. To be fair, anyone would be embarrassed to skate his short program.

“All the better. C’mon, I’ll get your headphones for you.”

As Yuri heads off the ice and onto the bleachers where Yuuri’s bag lay, Zelensky gives him a confused look. “What short program?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Yuuri groans. “Promise me we’ll never mention it after this.”

Yuri comes back soon enough, tossing his earbuds to him. Yuuri sighs, putting them on reluctantly before dragging himself to the middle. The music starts, and Yuuri has never been more thankful that he brought his headphones in the first place, usually using the rink's speakers to blast his music throughout the room.

He still manages to gain the attention of some, who were now watching him intensely, eyes following him as he moves. Some nudge the people beside him, and soon he has a medium-sized audience watching his every move. 

As Yuuri lands his quad Salchow, he sees someone enter, the dark gray hair familiar and electing an uncomfortable twist in his stomach. Even so, he pushes on, luckily with only a jump combination left.

As soon as he finishes, Morozov heads towards him, or at least tries to. For one, he doesn’t have skates on, meaning he can’t get onto the ice. Additionally, Yuri is now standing in front of Yuuri, glaring at the approaching dancer.

“I didn’t know you could skate, Doll,” Morozov smirks, his pale eyes turned dark. It reminds Yuuri of the bottom of the ocean, lacking light and full of animals that could kill him. “Your jumps really show off your legs; I’d love to see you do it again.”

“Er, thanks?” Yuuri replies, trying his best not to hide behind Yuri, which wouldn’t have worked in the first place, what with said blonde being around 10 centimeters shorter.

“You know, I know a thing or two about skating. I could show you the ropes if you want. We could have a private lesson together.” Morozov smirks, leaning on the barrier.

“I’m not so sure…”

“How about this: I’ll go get some skates, and you wait here. Sound good?”

Before Yuuri can reply, Morozov slinks off, much to his relief.

“That guy is a nightmare,” Yuri says, crossing his arms.

“Tell me about it.” Yuuri murmurs, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I hate to say this, but he needs to leave.”

“I will gladly say he needs to leave.”

“Katsuki!” Zelensky says, wobbling over. “That was so cool! You jumped so high and you spun around so many times! Are you going to do it again?”

Yuuri laughs. “Thanks! I’m looking to make it smoother. Um, maybe, depends on how long you guys stay.”

“Speaking of,” Yuri huffs. “Let’s go before Moron-zov comes back. If it looks like we’re doing something he might not bother you.”

“Moron-zov?” Zelensky asks.

“Morozov. Yuri calls him Moron-zov.” Yuuri explains.

“Ah. Is he moving onto you?”

“Making a move, you mean?” Zelensky nods as Yuuri grimaces. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you know him? Can you tell him to piss off?” Yuri looks over his shoulder, then yelps and grabs Yuuri’s arm, tugging on his. “Katsudon, he’s coming back.”

Morozov goes from walking to skating seamlessly, gliding over to the three of them with the balance that most of his peers seem to lack. Zelensky decides to go and hide behind Yuuri, who is hiding behind Yuri, who is giving the two of them the most unimpressed stare he has seen on someone, Lilia included.

“I’m glad you waited. Here, you can hold onto me in case you slip, doll.” Morozov holds out his arm, breaking out a flashy grin.

“I hate him so much. Let me kill him, please.” Yuri growls.

“I don’t think killing would be beneficial,” Yuuri whispers back.

“Plus, think about it. Do you really want to throw your career over for someone like him? If you’re going to kill, go big or go home.” Zelensky adds.

“You’re right; I should kill Victor instead.” Yuri nods. “I like you, Zelensky.”

"Wait, I didn't mean Victor Nikiforov!"

"Too bad. You can attend his funeral if you want."

“Now is really not the time, guys.” Yuuri hisses. As much as he’s glad that Yuri’s making friends, there were slightly more urgent matters at hand, namely the dancer in front of them, who looks equal parts confused and curious.

“Who’s that behind you, Doll?”

Zelensky seems to grip the back of Yuuri’s jacket even tighter, refusing to move an inch. Yuri, however, has other plans. He moves behind Zelensky and pulls him aside.

“Hey, I thought you said you liked me!”

“Some sacrifices are necessary for war.”

“Not me!”

“Dyusha?”

Zelensky smiles, eyes nervously wandering between Yuuri to Morozov. His face is pale, highlighting the faint sprinkling of freckles all over his face.

“Kolya!” He steps forward, as if to receive Morozov, and promptly slips.

“Dyusha!” Morozov moves to kneel beside Zelensky, hands hovering above his body. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, I'm fine. I am just not used to being on the ice.”

Morozov looks concerned, which is a welcome change from his constant smirks. “Are you sure? Can you stand?”

“Of course, I've been falling the entire time here!”

If anything, that makes Morozov even more worried. He helps steady a trembling Zelensky to get back up on his feet. “Don’t let go, okay? We can’t have you falling again.”

Zelensky nods, eyes fond even as Morozov turns away from him to talk to Yuuri instead.

“So, what about those lessons?” Once again, his charming persona has been put back on, and he grins at Yuuri, who has been slowly backing away from them.

“What about Zelensky?”

“Zelensky will be fine. Right? He says so himself, he tumbles all the time.”

Zelensky looks anything but fine right now, but he still manages to smile and wave them off. “Yeah, I'll be okay.”

“See?” Morozov says. “What do you say? I can make sure you don’t make an ass of yourself like Zelensky over here.”

Zelensky flushes, looking away, and Yuuri purses his lips. “Sorry, But Yura’s teaching me something right now.”

Morozov sighs. “Ah, rejected yet again. One day you’ll say yes, Doll.”

“May you be dead before that day comes.” Yuri cuts in, giving Morozov a harsh glare. His hand is wrapped around Yuuri’s wrist, and this time Yuuri lets himself be dragged away near the exit, where the other dancers are clinging on for dear life.

“No wonder Zelensky likes Victor so much.” Yuri scoffs. “I wish death to both the moron here and the moron at my rink.”

“What did Nikiforov ever do to you?”

“Everything. My god, he never shuts up. Especially about—”

“About?”

“Nothing. He shuts up about nothing, and it drives me mad.”

“Nice performance, Katsuki! I can see why our resident playboy has his eyes set on you.” says one of the girls, the American dancer Yuuri met on his first day.

“Resident playboy?”

She gasps. “You didn’t know? That moron over there—”

“ _Ha!_ And you said Moron-zov was a stupid name.”

“—is the guy who slept his way through his company.”

“What a dick,” Yuri says as she nods in agreement. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll leave you alone soon enough.”

“Hopefully,” Yuuri replies as Yuri steps off to hand him his water bottle. As soon as he finishes, he’s brought to the center once more.

“Alright Katsudon, here’s the deal. We are not leaving this rink until you stop under-rotating those Salchows of yours, got it?”

“What if I never do?” Yuuri teases.

“Then we’ll die here, and Yakov will weep because his best skater has perished.”

“Alright, alright. Show me how to do it.”

Yuri has Yuuri run the jump over and over again. It’s not as if he continuously falls, but Yuuri would almost prefer that over constantly trying and not making it by a second or two in the air.

“C’mon Katsudon, I know you can do it. How are you going to beat JJ if you can’t do this?" Yuri thinks over what he just said before making a face. "Actually, I take that back; you’re beating JJ no matter what.”

“Yura, give the guy some credit.” Yuuri laughs, hands pressing on his bent knees as he hunches over, taking in a deep breath of the cold air.

“His JJ style haunts me in my dreams and I will never forgive him for that.”

Eventually, Yuuri manages to pull off three quad Salchows in a row that Yuri approves of, which means they’re finally able to stop for the day. By then, the other dancers have trickled out, either going back to the hotel or out to eat. Yuuri unlaces his skates, sighing in relief as he finally slips them off and replaces them with his well-worn sneakers.

“Now what?” he asks Yuri, who is sitting next to him with Yuuri’s bag in his lap.

Yuri grins, excitement lighting up his face. “Now, we go shopping.”

\- - - -

For as much as Yuuri and Yuri managed to see each other, lounging around town wasn’t something that hadn’t happened before. Coach Feltsman wouldn’t let Yuri off during the week, requiring the teen to go back to finish whatever miscellaneous assignment he had neglected during the day.

But now it was Friday, and Yuri didn’t have practice tomorrow, allowing him to stay for however long he liked.

Dinner was a quick affair, both skaters ravenous from the day’s activities. Yuri kept trying to steal bits off of Yuuri's plate, to which the Japanese responded by giving him hid vegetables instead, leading to a playful affair of passing over unwanted parts from their respective plates. After eating and paying, Yuri leads Yuuri out to the street, where they can spot small crowds of people, some being the dancers they attended class with, others just locals browsing around.

“Guess everyone had the same idea,” Yuuri says, taking in the busy atmosphere. He can hear a mixture of languages around him, ranging from English to Hindi to Taiwanese, and is reminded of walking through the language hall at his university.

“Hopefully we don’t bump into anyone nasty,” Yuri replies. “I’ve had enough of grey-haired people for the rest of my life.”

“Doll!”

Yuuri laughs almost hysterically as Yuri groans. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear?”

“Let’s just hope the _other_ devil doesn’t show up as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the title of the last chapter so it would fit with this chapter's title! Does it pertain to the actual contents of said chapter? No, but it looks cool.
> 
> Note on the names. According to half an hour of googling during my lunch break, the diminutive for Nikolai is Kolya, which is just ??? Morozov introduced himself as Nicholas, but that's on the basis that they're speaking English and he changed it to adapt, because natural selection (not really, but let's roll with it). The diminutive for Andrei is Dyusha (there are others that actually start with A, but they were too long for my liking). Zelensky is actually Andriy because he's Ukrainian, but I couldn't find a diminutive for the life of me for that and this was the closest name in Russian. Here's a link to a website with both of them because I cite my sources: http://www.doukhobor.org/Russian-Masculine-Names.html
> 
> Okay, let's talk relationship. If you couldn't tell, moron and freckles are seeing each other, but it's that weird middle ground where moron is picking up people on the side and freckles doesn't know if he's allowed to say something. This is not a good relationship. Let me repeat that one more time: This. Is. Not. A. Good. Relationship. Especially since moron thinks it's a good idea to push freckles away whenever it's convenient for him and use him as he sees fit (see: making him the butt of the joke). Moron calling him Dyusha then Zelensky isn't my mistake, it's him trying to distance himself to make it seem like he's more available to Yuuri. Speaking of: Zelensky has dark hair, pale skin, and wears glasses. Plus freckles, but that's whatever. Yuuri has dark hair, pale skin, and wears glasses. No, I also don't know why he's like this, but he is.  
> I'm not saying they don't genuinely like each other, but their relationship is not healthy. It's not toxic (yet), but it sure isn't good for you. Would not recommend you ingest. (If you think I made a big deal out of little things in their relationship, let me know and I'll try to match my writing to the intensity I'm wanting to convey!)
> 
> Okay, talk over. Thanks for reading! Next chapter might be filler-esc after dealing with the moron. Maybe a surprise appearance by the other devil?


	10. Light Will Shine Upon a Brand New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are we making you uncomfortable?” Yuuri asks. “We can stop talking about him if you want.”
> 
> Zelensky shakes his head. “It’s not that. I just… I wish he actually liked me, instead of just using me. I feel bad for putting up with it for so long.”
> 
> “Well now he’s gone, and if he bothers you again, kick him in the balls.”
> 
> “Yura!”
> 
> “What? You know you want to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! If you've returned from yesterday: welcome back! The entirety of chapter ten is now posted, so have fun reading (or rereading, for some of you). Thank you all for being so patient with me. Enjoy!
> 
> Little edited, not really.

“H-Hey Morozov! What are you doing here?”

The man shrugs, sweeping back his hair. “I was just browsing around. Then I saw you, looking lost, so I decided to come and find you.”

“Lost?” Yuri says, looking affronted. “I live here! Why would he be lost?”

Morozov pushes on, ignoring Yuri. “We should go around together!”

“Maybe you should leave him alone.” Yuri snaps. He looks like he’s just about ready to attack Morozov, so Yuuri gently pulls him back by the hood of his jacket, moving to stand in front of him.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but Yuri and I already have plans together,” he says. “I’m sure someone else could use the help, though.”

Morozov looks surprised. “You’re really going to stick with him? I’m sure his parents won’t mind.”

“He’s not my babysitter you absolute fu—”

“Yuri is perfectly fine being on his own here,” Yuuri says firmly. “If anything, he’s the one looking after me. So you see, I really don’t need you.”

“All the better, isn’t it?" Morozov smiles. "I’d rather you want me than need me, anyway. I certainly want _you_.”

His eyes rake down Yuuri's figure, causing the Japanese skater to shiver, wishing he had brought a jacket. Yuri takes notice and tries to move forward, but Yuuri prevents him from doing so, moving him arm out to stop him. He's much rather he be exposed to this than Yuri.

"What do you say? You should feel flattered; I've been told I'm quite hard to get."

Yuuri was tired. He didn’t know how others dealt with people like this constantly. “I neither want you nor need you, so please leave.”

“C’mon, Doll. What’s it going to take? How about a drink?”

“Please leave me alone.”

Morozov reaches out, grabbing Yuuri’s wrist and trying to tug him towards him. His other hand strays lower, brushing down Yuuri's back before tightening his grip, groping Yuuri. That was the last straw.

Eyes stinging, Yuuri draws back his leg and jerks, kneeing Morozov. Said dancer immediately lets go of him and groans, clutching at his stomach.

Yuri immediately moves to stand in front, and this time, Yuuri lets him.

“You!”

“I won’t repeat myself again.” Yuuri states. “Leave me alone. Stop trying to talk to me, and stop trying to approach me. You make me uncomfortable. If you try and touch me again, I will be reporting you to Madame Lilia.”

“We were just having a bit of fun! Don’t be so sensitive.” Completely disregarding Yuuri’s warnings, Morozov once again stands up, and bypassing Yuri, wraps his arm around Yuuri’s waist. He leans his face into Yuuri's, lips mouthing at the shell of his ear.

Yuuri shrieks and Yuri pounces, ripping him off of the Japanese skater with a strength Yuuri did not know he possessed. 

“Katsudon!”

“Kolya!”

Zelensky suddenly appears, a group of soloists from his company behind him. “What happened?”

“Moron-zov decided that he doesn’t have ears and completely ignores Katsudon’s rejection. You bastard piece of shit, touch him again and Lilia will be the _least_ of your worries!” Yuri hisses.

Zelensky moves towards Yuuri, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Yuuri nods, taking in deep breaths. “I’ll be fine.”

He glares at Morozov, unshed tears lingering at the corner of his eyes. He wasn’t known as the glass-hearted skater for nothing, after all. Yuuri feels like curling into a ball and running off back to America, or Japan, or anywhere Morozov couldn’t follow.

“Listen. I’ve only known you for a day, and I’m already so sick of your harassment. Just because you think that you’re entitled to having anyone you want doesn’t mean you are. When I tell you no, I’m not telling you ‘yes but I’m making it difficult for you’. What I am telling you is that you _disgust_ me, and even if I knew you for a hundred years, I would still not want to be anywhere near you!”

“Doll—”

“And stop calling me that! My name is Yuuri Katsuki. There are many things that define me, and being diminished to being your plaything is not one of them!”

“Please,” Morozov scoffs. “I—”

“Kolya,” Zelensky interrupts, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Please stop this.”

“Dyusha?”

“He obviously does not want you, and you cannot force him to. Not only are you dragging your name into the dirt, but you also represent your company. Leave my friend alone.”

“How long have we known each other now, Kolya? 4 years?” Morozov asks, crossing his arms. “Are we not friends? Why do you take his side?"

“You have been harassing Katsuki, you don’t get to have a side."

"Relax! Is this because of our relationship? I keep telling you these things mean nothing to me, not like you."

“No, you haven't." Zelensky says. "In fact, I think you’ve made it very clear multiple times that _I_ mean nothing to you.”

With that, he turns his back and walks away, swiftly brushing past people until he disappears into the crowd. Yuuri watches as Morozov’s face crumples, his hand reaching out in the general direction where Zelensky had previously been.

“Dyusha…”

“While we’re at it, give the other guy a break. You’re abusing his affections for you. No one deserves to put up with the bullshit you exude.” Yuri scowls before dragging a blotchy-eyes, red-faced Yuuri away.

“Let’s go take a breather,” he says, tugging them into a tea shop.

“I’ve never heard you use exude before,” Yuuri laughs, rubbing at his eyes.

“It was one of my vocabulary words.”

“So I figured.”

Yuri orders them both black tea with a side of jam and pastries. Both Yuri and Lilia enjoy spooning on dobs of jam into their tea, so it must be a Russian thing. The pastries, however…

“We just had dinner. Is this supposed to be tea time? Like from England?”

Yuri shrugs. “They were onto something when they made this, even if their food is garbage.”

“Neither one of us is English, though.”

“Call it multiculturalism.”

Yuuri hides an amused smile behind his cup, breathing in the steam rising from the inside. “I don’t think multiculturalism means what you think it means.”

“Who cares? I’m going to redefine it.”

They split a stack of syrnikis, sweet cheese pancakes that Yuri seems to enjoy in particular. They were dense, yet airy enough that Yuuri didn’t feel heavy after eating them. Yuri tells him it was a popular breakfast item, and Yuuri resolves to find it at the hotel’s breakfast line one day. 

“Don’t look, but Victor fanboy is here.”

Yuuri turns his head anyway, making eye contact with a miserable looking Zelensky. He waves him over, and Zelensky listens, slinking over before unceremoniously dumping himself into a chair.

“Hello. Are you alright? I’m sorry about his behavior.” he mutters. Yuri slides a syrniki towards him, and Zelensky hums in thanks.

“Can I use that?” he asks, pointing to Yuuri’s unused tea jam, and Yuuri nods as he slathers it over his food.

“You don’t have to apologize for him, It’s not your fault he— _oh no_.”

Yuuri looks up at Yuri, who has gone silent before he could finish. “Is Morozov back?”

“Slightly less worse than that. If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to perform an exorcism. I’ll be back.”

Yuri stands up and heads towards the door, pushing it open and storming out. That leaves Yuuri and Zelensky by themselves, Zelensky still looking miserable.

“So why are you here? I assumed you’d want to go back to the hotel.” Yuuri says.

Zelensky grimaces. “I needed to say something before.” 

“Sure, what is it?”

“It’s about Kolya— Morozov.”

“Him?”

Nodding, Zelensky continues on. “I know you don’t want to talk about him, but I thought you should know since he’s already caused you so much trouble.”

Yuuri purses his lips, thinking it over. After a moment, he sighs and offers Zelensky a weary smile.

“Alright, tell me about him.”

\- - - -

“ _What are you doing here?!_ ”

Victor looks down on him through his sunglasses, unimpressed. “I’m an adult; I can go where I want to.”

“Plus,” he adds, looking much more cheerful. “I wanted to visit you!”

“No thanks.”

Victor pouts. “Yura! We could go shopping, and maybe you’ll help me find a gift for Katsuki Yu—”

“You’re not courting him.”

“Of course I am!” Victor says, looking offended that Yuri would dare suggest he wouldn’t. “I’m going to court him, and then he’s going to fall in love with me and we’ll get married and I’ll have his children! And then he can bring me back to bed and—”

“Alright, I’m going to stop you right there.” Yuri holds up his hand, blocking Victor’s face from his view. “You do realize we live in the 21st century right? Just contact him through social media or something.”

“If I did that, you’d kill me.”

Yuri huffs out a laugh. “You’re right, I would. At least you know.”

Victor opens his mouth to reply, but Yuri’s eyes are caught on something behind him. His eyes narrow, and he turns to Victor. “Old man. Want me to help you court Katsudon?”

“Is this a trick question?” Victor asks, looking rightfully suspicious of Yuri’s sudden change in personality.

“I need you to do me a favor first.”

“Anything.”

“Wow, you are _desperate_.” Yuri murmurs. “Alright, listen up. See that guy over there? He kinda looks like you.”

“He’s hideous.”

“Exactly. I need you to follow him and if he gets anywhere near this shop—,” Yuri points at the cafe Yuuri and Zelensky were currently residing in. “You have to tell me immediately. And make sure I know. Blow up my phone with your stupid texts. Shit, just call me.”

Victor nods. “I’ll be your spy! If he so much as turns towards it you’ll know.”

“Good. Katsudon likes katsudon.”

Victor blinks. “He likes himself? Well, self-love is important, but I can’t exactly give him that.”

“Not _Katsudon_ , you idiot. Katsudon, as in pork cutlet bowls. It’s this Japanese rice dish. If you make if for him he just might swoon.”

“Really!?” Victor looks a tad bit too excited for Yuri’s liking. Probably thinking of all the ways he could lure Yuuri into his arms.

“No.” Yuri shuts him down, giving Victor an unimpressed look. “But he will like it. Now go, I see him heading into a bar. Do this and I’ll tell you something else at the end of the day.”

Victor gives him a mock salute before bounding after Morozova, slipping into the crowd and out of Yuri’s sight. Yuri sighs, turning to head back into the shop. Victor better pull this off, for both his sake and Yuuri's.

\- - - -

“And then he sort of fell in love with— hello Plisetsky— one of our classmates but she wouldn’t so much as look at him, and I guess he couldn’t handle that.”

“Yura.” Yuuri greets. “Something happen?”

“Not yet.” Yuri sits back down, pulling his now lukewarm tea towards him. “Anything with you?”

“You missed my tragic backstory,” Zelensky says.

“About that asshole piece of shit?”

Yuuri nods. “He and Zelensky have known each other since they were 18.”

“By then, he had already seduced some other people we knew. We only started messing around with each other when I was 19. And then I got attached.”

“And he didn’t,” Yuri says as Zelensky nods. "He would tell me he loved me, then go out clubbing and bring back a random girl to our apartment. I used to think it was just a game, and inside joke of sorts..." "But it's just a red flag." Yuuri finishes, recalling stories he had heard from his classmates in college. "Unless explicitly agreed upon, that's never a good sign." "What was the fell in love thing about?”Yuri asks.

Zelensky wrings his hands, twisting them into positions that can’t possibly be comfortable. Yuuri sympathizes. “There was a soloist in his company who started out around the same time as him. They got partnered one day and he became obsessed with her.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Yuri remarks, eyes flickering over to a bar next door.

“You under the drinking limit.” Yuuri reminds.

“You can get me one. So what happened to her?”

Zelensky shrugs. “She already had a lover. Now they’re married with three kids and he’s still not over the fact that someone wasn’t willing to cheat on their partner for him. I guess Katsuki reminded him of her.”

He opens his phone and shows it to them. On the screen is a smiling woman, her dark hair cut short at her shoulders, pale freckles spattered around her face.

“She looks like you,” Yuuri remarks. “Are you two related?”

“We’re cousins,” Zelensky affirms. 

“So the reason why he’s such a dick is that his ego got hurt.” Yuri points out.

“Basically.”

“What a narcissist. Not everyone will like you, get over it,” the blonde scoffs, crossing his arms.

Zelensky fidgets, making a noise that doesn’t sound like he’s agreeing but also doesn’t sound like he disagrees.

“Are we making you uncomfortable?” Yuuri asks. “We can stop talking about him if you want.”

Zelensky shakes his head. “It’s not that. I just… I wish he actually liked me, instead of just using me. I feel bad for putting up with it for so long.”

“Well now he’s gone, and if he bothers you again, kick him in the balls.”

“Yura!”

“What? You know you want to.”

His phone suddenly lights up, vibrating rapidly. Yuri immediately snatches it up and skims over the flurry of messages that were being sent to him. “You might get your chance to kick him in the balls right now.”

“What’s going on?” Zelensky asks.

“Moron-zov got shit-faced drunk and it looks like he’s stumbling his way here.”

“Should we leave?”

“Probably.” Yuri shrugs, already clearing the table.

“Are we actually going to?”

Before Yuri can answer, the door jingles open and in steps Morozov in all his drunken glory, swaying on his feet, hair mussed up and eyes glazed over. He spots their trio and stumbles over.

“Doll,” he drawls out. “Why don’t you come back to my place? We can play together. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Kick him in the balls, Katsudon.” Yuri hisses, flipping Morozov off. Morozov’s gaze briefly flickers to him before turning his gaze back to Yuuri.

“Kolya, you’re drunk. Go back to the hotel, please.” Zelensky begs.

“Dyusha? Dyshua, won’t you come with me?” Morozov says softly, wrapping his arms around. “Please, Lyubimiy?”

"But—"

"You know I love you, right? You're too good for me."

Zelensky sighs. He looks conflicted, eyes flickering from Morozov’s face to the hands around his arm.

Then he looks at Yuuri who’s face has gone pale, with glassy eyes and a trembling lip, and his face hardens. Slowly, he peels Morozov off of him. “I’m sorry Kolya, but I’d rather stay with my friends.”

“Is it because of what I said before? Lyubimiy, you know I didn’t mean it. We're just joking around."

“No, I don’t know. Leave, Nikolai. You’re disrupting the atmosphere.”

Zelensky makes to turn around, but before he can, Morozov grabs him and forcefully smashes their mouths together. 

“Zelensky!”

“Kick him!”

Zelensky struggles for a minute before finally pushing Morozov off. A loud slap rings through the room, and Yuri whistles in appreciation at the red handprint on Morozova’s face.

“Katsuki, could you call Madame Baranovskaya for me?” Zelensky asks, chest heaving up and down. “I want to tell her about this.”

“Huh? Oh, yes!” 

They end up dragging Morozov outside, apologizing profusely to the owner of the store. She waves them off, handing them new cups of tea as “you poor boys have had enough to deal with”.

Twenty minutes later, Lilia comes storming along with Minako hot on her heels.

“Morozov Nikolai!” she bellows, her face dark. “Why am I getting calls about you sexually harassing your peers?”

“S’fine Madame,” Morozov says, waving his hand in the air flippantly.

“It most certainly is not! You and I will be having a conversation. I’d suggest you go and pack your bags, but seeing as you're currently not sober enough to tie your shoes, that can wait till tomorrow.”

“Yuuri! Are you three alright?” Minako asks. “Don’t worry about him anymore; Lilia and I have it covered. We’ll be informing his company.”

“Um...Madame?” a new voice says.

Behind them is a group of their peers huddled together. The one who spoke was a soloist in Yuuri’s morning class, the American who came up to Yuuri in the very first day. She and her partner situated themselves near the back of the room, meaning Yuuri rarely managed to speak to her.

He smiles at her in greeting, and she nods back, looking anxious. Her entire body is trembling, though she's wrapped up in layers upon layers, protecting her from the cold.

“Miss Sullivan? How can I help you?”

“I have something to tell you. About Nicholas? In private.”

Minako looks over at Morozov, then at the shaking girl in front of her. “Of course. Yuuri, you and the other two are free to leave. Go have some fun.”

“I wish I could have fun tonight,” Zelensky sighs, rubbing his eyes wearily. “I think I’m going to head back. My heart can’t take this much stress.”

“Will you be alright?” Yuuri says.

“Yeah, I just want to sleep all this off. Maybe skip class if Madame Baranovskaya will let me.”

“If she doesn’t, just threaten her,” Yuri suggests.

“Don’t do that.” Yuuri hastily adds.

Zelensky lets out a laugh. “No promises!”

He waves to Yuuri and Yuri as they walk away, then goes to Lilia and starts speaking with her. He seems to be apologizing once more, and she swats him on the head, albeit gently.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

Yuri looks over at the two of them, then huffs. “She doesn’t like it when people take responsibility for other people’s bullshit, so probably that.”

Yuuri nods. “Sorry our outing got disrupted.”

“You know, I also don’t like it when people take responsibility for other people’s bullshit, so shut up. It’s Moron-zov’s fault, and he’s about to get kicked out of the hag's program, so everything's fine.”

“Plus,” he adds. “We still have time. Can we go looking for cheetah prints?”

“Your fashion sense will forever allude me.”

“Cheetah print is amazing! It’s the rest of you with bad taste!” Yuri argues, puffing out his cheeks.

“Alright, let’s go looking for cheetah prints. We can’t have you walking around in scandalous prints like stripes or color block or, gracious me, _monochrome_.”

“Katsudon!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! We're finally done with this guy. Yes, the end was hinting at him possibly having harassed others. He's a menace, and good riddance to him. It's canonical that Yuri has an obsession with animal print, which I find hilarious. Moron's bs past comes from this thing I heard where men will get cheated on once in college and declare themselves unlovable and go wild.
> 
> We're in the double digits! My outline had the ballet camp arc end at chapter 3, so I obviously didn't think that through. To be counted as a novel, it has to exceed 40,000 words. We're halfway there! 
> 
> (Off-topic, but to my honors and AP readers: Did you know Quizlet has an honor system? How insane is that?)


	11. Tell Myself That My Dreams Will Come True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week later, Yuri all but crashes into Yuuri as he’s warming up. The blonde is lightly panting, his phone being waved around in rapid movements.
> 
> “What’s wrong?” Yuuri asks, hands hovering around Yuri in case he slips, having not put on proper skates before stepping on the ice.
> 
> “Assignments,” Yuri pants. “Assignments have come out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! First off, congrats to Nathan Chen for winning Skate America yet again! It's a shame basically everything else for the Grand Prix is canceled.
> 
> Today, I had a speaking exam I had no idea was going to happen? My teacher sent us a text yesterday and thought, "Yes, now everyone knows". To anyone who speaks a second/third language, props to you!
> 
> The chapters short, but we've transitioned from the ballet arc to the Grand Prix circuit! Enjoy!
> 
> Halfway edited, I will be back in like 3 hours to finish the job. If it doesn’t say edited by then, someone call me out on it in the comments.

A week later, Yuri all but crashes into Yuuri as he’s warming up. The blonde is lightly panting, his phone being waved around in rapid movements.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asks, hands hovering around Yuri in case he slips, having not put on proper skates before stepping on the ice.

“Assignments,” Yuri pants. “Assignments have come out!”

He holds up his phone, screen pulled up to the official ISU website. Yuuri stares back at a list of his competitor’s names, some of who he’s personally familiar with, and some he doesn’t recognize.

“We’re both at Rostelecom this year.” Yuuri points out.

“Yeah, but it’s at the very end,” Yuri huffs. “And they put me with the old man in Canada.”

“Think of it as testing the waters against him before the final round,” Yuuri suggests.

“I guess…” Yuri trails off, narrowing his eyes at his phone’s screen. “Am I with JJ for both qualifiers?! Are you kidding me?!”

“Really?”

“Yes! The ISU has the audacity to stick me with Victor and JJ in so many rounds!” Yuri scowls, glaring at his phone as if to send waves of hate through it.

“Look at this!” he jabs his finger at the screen, tapping the bottom of it rapidly. “You have Hamster Boy with you in China!”

“I also have one of your rink mates. Georgi Popovich?”

“Georgi,” Yuri scoffs. “He’s dramatic. You know he based his programs off the ‘heartbreak’ he felt after his girlfriend dumped him? Good riddance.”

Yuuri raises his eyebrows. “The ice dancer you were talking about? What’s her name...”

“Anya.” Yuri supplies as Yuuri nods. “Because of her, I have to listen to depressing instrumentals as he sobs his way through practice.”

“How good is he? I don’t seem to remember him last year.”

“He always gets overshadowed by Victor. If anything, he should transfer to ice dance; he’s dramatic enough for it.”

“I hope I can do well enough to beat him.” Yuuri sighs. He doesn’t like to think of the competition; usually, all it will do is lead him down a rabbit hole of bad thoughts.

“Of course you _can_.” Yuri states, his tone firm and unyielding. “Whether or not you _will_ depends on your nerves.”

“Just like it always does,” Yuuri mumbles, looking down at his hands.

Yuri frowns, nudging Yuuri with his shoulder. “Forget about that. It’s your last day here, and I won’t get to see you again till Rostelecom. What do you want to do?”

“Can I try your short?”

“Why would you want to do Agape when you have a cooler piece?” Yuri grumbles even as he pulls up the music.

“I like your music more.”

“Yeah, and I like yours, but you don’t see me seducing the crowd.”

“That’s because I don’t let you.” Yuuri reminds him. “I’m pretty sure it could be counted as child pornography.”

“At least I don’t skate as Christophe does.”

Yuuri snorts. “No one could skate like him, not even Nikiforov.”

“He’d certainly like to see you try, though.”

Yuuri chokes, stumbling over himself as the haunting echoes of the beginning of Agape transition into the more instrumental part. “Excuse me?”

“What?” Yuri cocks his head to the side, looking as though he didn’t just try to give Yuuri a heart attack.

“Did... I...” Yuuri sputters, trying to remember how to form words. “What was that?”

“It’s my sanity leaving me, that’s what.” Yuri sighs. “Once you leave and this camp ends, I’ll be stuck with Victor and his idiocy for way too much time.”

Suddenly, his eyes light up. “Hey, come attend class with me.”

“Yura, I’ve already graduated from school.” Yuuri teases.

“Not that,” Yuri snarks, though his lips twitch upwards. He grasps Yuuri’s sleeve, holding onto him for support. “The hag’s class. Come show off. Just don’t lap dance on anyone.”

“Lap dance?”

“I told you I was losing my sanity.”

Yuuri concedes, unlacing his skates and slipping on his flats. He follows Yuri back outside the hall and into Lilia’s studio. When she spots them, Lilia’s eyebrows raise in surprise, though her eyes remaining scolding, focusing on Yuri.

“Yura, you’re tardy. Yuuri, what a pleasant surprise. Yura tells me that assignments have come out.” Lilia greets them at the doorway. From it, Yuuri can see the other dancers already lined up and stretching.

“Yes, he and I just checked them.” Yuuri nods.

“I got put with Victor and JJ way too much.” Yuri scowls, crossing his arms.

“Victor,” Lilia purses her lips, looking like she wants to roll her eyes. “I don’t know _what_ Yakov sees in him.”

“Me neither,” Yuri adds. “Though, all Yakov does is yell at him.”

“I’ve tried to get him to do ballet, but he’s only graceful on ice. And I don’t know how he manages to spin; that man is as flexible as a brick.”

Yuri snorts, trying to hide his laugh behind the sleeve of his shirt. Yuuri simply smiles, amused yet not wanting ridicule his idol.

Lilia snaps, gesturing towards the inside of the room. “Come along now, we have practice.”

They follow her inside, Yuri leading Yuuri to a different spot than where he usually stands, facing everyone else. Yuuri spots Zelensky with Sullivan, the American they had met the time they went into town. He waves to him, and Zelensky cheerfully waves back before turning his attention back to Sullivan.

“Watch them. You’ve never been here in the afternoon, but they all get sleepy and slouch off. Lilia likes to snap in their faces to wake them up.” Yuri whispers with a trouble-making grin on his face. Yuuri gives him an exasperated look, and Yuri looks away, though the smile is still on his face.

Sure enough, about an hour into the lesson, Yuuri can spot some of his classmates slowly drooping, like leaves on a wilted plant. Lilia apparently has spotted it as well because she slinks over behind one of them before reaching over and violently snapping her fingers. The student jumps up, stumbling behind and right into Lilia’s awaiting arms. 

“Madame!”

“Good morning. I see you’ve finally awoken.”

As they try to stutter out a sentence while Lilia glares at them, Yuuri, despite his best efforts, laughs with Yuri in the back, and the rest of the students shift their eyes to avoid catching Lilia’s eye.

“It’s our last day here, Madame!”

“All the more reason for you all to not act like slobs. I will not be sending back graceful giraffes!”

\- - - -

“Did you get everything? Nothing’s left at the hotel?”

“Yes Phichit, I’ve checked twice,” Yuuri says, shifting the phone from one side of his head to the other as he pulls on his backpack. “Did you see the assignment list?”

“Yes, I’m so excited for the Grand Prix to start! And my assignment’s first too!” Phichit all but squeals. “My friends from Thailand are coming to watch me in, you know? It’s like my first Grand Prix all over again!”

“Your friends came?”

“Yeah, don’t you remember them?”

Yuuri winces. “Sorry Phichit, I was kind of caught up with trying not to puke.”

“It’s fine! I’m just happy they’re coming. I mean, wouldn’t you like to know someone’s out there in the bleachers watching you?”

“That sounds terrible,” Yuuri remarks. “I’d be even more anxious.”

“Well, maybe not you,” Phichit agrees. “But I heard that even your idol’s parents came to watch his senior debut. It’s kinda standard practice. Not that your situation isn’t normal!”

Shouting could be heard from Phichit’s side, and his voice becomes muffled as he pulls away to shout something back. 

“So, Ciao-Ciao may be mad at me?”

“Phichit,” Yuuri sighs. “When is he not?”

“We’re picking up Satsuki at the airport, and I guess we were supposed to leave right now, except now I’m talking to you.”

“Phichit, go pick up your coach!” Yuuri scolds. “Weren’t you just talking about people accompanying you? Muramoto’s probably just about to land!”

“She’ll be fine on her own.”

More shouting can be heard, and Phichit replies again. This time, the voice sounds more hurried, marking the end of their conversation. “Ciao-Ciao’s calling me again. Gotta go!”

“Good luck!”

Phichit hangs up, and at the same time, Yuuri hears a knock on his door. Yuri slips in, silent with a sulking expression on his face.

“Do you really have to go?” he asks, plopping down next to Yuuri on his bed.

“We’re deep in competition season now, so I’ve got to go back and get ready to fly out with Celestino. At least Skate Canada is coming up!”

Yuri makes an affirmative noise. “I’m going to crush them all.”

“Are any of your friends or family going to see you?”

“Are you coming to watch me? If not, then no.”

“What about your family?”

“My family,” Yuri scoffs. “Doesn’t give two shits about my career. They don’t even attend my parent-teacher conference, Yakov does. Imagine being eight and introducing your coach to your teacher because your grandpa’s too far away and he’s your only other guardian.”

Yuuri is silent, instead choosing to place a hand on Yuri’s head, running his fingers through his hair. Yuri sighs, closing his eyes. “It’s fine, Katsudon. It’s not like I care about them either.”

“It’s your senior debut! Someone other than your coach should be there for you.”

“No one was there for yours.” Yuri points out. “I’ve seen the video of the commentators pointing that out and you trying not to cry.”

“Touche,” Yuuri murmurs.

“Plus, the people I’d really like to see are Deduska and you.”

“None of your rink mates?”

“If Victor so much as appears in my view I’m leaving.”

“Yura, you know Nikiforov is also participating in Skate Canada.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Yuri grumbles. “He’s probably going to try to get another consecutive gold medal this year, and then act like it’s nothing.”

Yuuri hums. “Maybe you’ll beat him.”

“Maybe _you’ll_ beat him.” Yuri replies. “We can both defeat him, knock him to third.”

Yuuri breathes out a laugh. “Of course.”

\- - - -

“Is this your version of teenage rebellion?” 

“Technically, Celestino doesn’t care what I do as long as I make it to China.”

“Semi rebellion then. I always knew you were too good to be true. Next thing you know you’re going to cut your hair into choppy bits and dye it red.”

“Phichit, _please._ ”

\- - - -

Yuuri watches from his seat at a small table as Yuri stumbles through the busy streets of Canada, dragging his suitcase behind him.

“Excuse me,” he calls out once Yuri is close enough to hear him, watching in amusement as the skater’s face morphs in shock. “Are you Yuri Plisetsky? I’m a big fan of yours.”

“You—” Yuri points at him, shaking his finger up and down. “You liar!”

“Liar? Is that any way to speak to someone who came all the way here to see you?”

“Please, you came from America. It’s in the same continent.” Yuri tugs on his sleeve, and Yuuri allows himself to be dragged outside the airport. 

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to find Yakov, and then we’re ditching him.”

“Yura, your short program is tomorrow.” Yuuri offhandedly murmurs, looking down at his phone. Minako just sent him a picture of his family getting ready for the Grand Prix circuit, and he smiles as he types a reply.

Yuri waves him off. “Yakov’s too busy worrying about Victor. Recently, he’s been too hyper. Something about reuniting with—”

“Yura!”

Yuri’s face darkens, and he looks away, pointedly refusing to meet the man’s eyes. “Old man.”

“Yura, Yakov thought we lost you! You made him lose more hair.” Yuuri freezes. He knows that voice.

“He was going bald anyway.” Yuri scoffs.

“You can tell him that. Oh, who’s that? I didn’t know you made new friends.”

Slowly, Yuuri turns his head to face the man that had been talking to Yuri. Victor Nikiforov.

“Erm, hello!” Yuuri says as he gives him a polite smile. Nikiforov says nothing, instead silently staring at him.

Then, his face lights up and he breaks out into a huge smile, almost blinding Yuuri with his brightness. “Hello, Yuuri! How have you been? I enjoyed watching you skate to my choreography! Do you like poodles?”

“Your _what?_ ”

“Oh no,” Yuri groans. “ _Oh no._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Funny enough, today I also got my assignment, though not for skating. One of the fics I'm subscribed to updated a couple of days ago, and it has 13k words in a single chapter. I aspire to be that. Maybe I'll make it my New Year's resolution.
> 
> At first, I was going to have Yakov call Yuuri and ask him o come, but that doesn't make a whole lotta sense. To be honest, this entire transition isn't really that smooth, but that's what the power of editing is for! Basically, I'll fix it in like, a year.


	12. Spinning in a World of Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But Yakov!”
> 
> “But nothing. You can run away after we check-in. I will not have a repeat of last year’s Worlds!”
> 
> “What happened?” Yuuri whispers.
> 
> “At Worlds?” Yuri asks as Yuuri nods. “Victor was too enamored with watching videos of other people’s routine and missed his flight. Yakov was sitting alone, waiting for him, and the old man was still at the terminal.”
> 
> “Did it work out at the end?”
> 
> “Yeah, but only because Victor got on his knees and begged Yakov for forgiveness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually start off my chapters with a greeting, but I couldn't remember what this time, so I went back to looked at my previous chapters. Turns out I couldn't remember then either; I kept switching between hi and hello.
> 
> So good afternoon instead! It's almost the afternoon, at least. Today's chapter is very much filler, so you could honestly skip it if you wanted. I'd prefer you not, but whatever floats your boat.
> 
> Election day is upon us. Please vote if you can, and best of luck to America; you'll need it.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Not edited

Victor and Yuuri stare at each other, with Yuri in the back trying to pull Yuuri away. Victor looks ecstatic, while Yuuri is trying his best to not take Yuri up on his silent offer and run.

“I’m so sorry, I should introduce myself! I’m Yuuri Katsuki,” he blurts out, face darkening in embarrassment. He then starts to rapidly bow to the silver-haired skater in front of fun. "I apologize if I used your choreo; Yura sent it to me, so I thought it was his. It’s nice to meet you, Nikiforov.”

Victor waves it off. “You should call me Victor. It’s nice to see you again, Yuuri!”

“Again? We haven’t met before…”

“Yes, we have! Remember Sochi?”

“Sochi…” Yuuri hums. He places a hand on Yuri’s shoulder, placating him enough to get him to stop moving. Suddenly, his face heats up. “Oh, you mean the photo?” 

Embarrassed, Yuuri turns his head to the side, showing off his red-tinted ears, which Victor watches with rapt attention. “It’s no big deal. We should put it behind, let bygones be bygones and whatnot.”

“No, I meant the ban—”

“Look, there’s Yakov!” Yuri interrupts, shooting Victor a harsh glare before softening his gaze at Yuuri. “Katsudon, can you go talk to him for us? I need to tell Victor something first.”

\- - - -

“Listen up,” Yuri says as soon as Yuuri is out of hearing range, eyes narrowing at Victor. “Katsudon doesn’t remember the banquet, so you better keep your mouth shut.”

“He doesn’t remember?” Victor asks, face falling.

“And,” Yuri adds, ignoring Victor. “If he starts freaking out and can’t skate properly because _you_ told him something, you can bet _you_ won’t live long enough to enact your plans of living till the next year, much less getting married.”

“Yura!” Victor all but whines. “How will we tell Makkachin about our first meeting?”

“I’m sure you’ve told that dog about it multiple times, seen as you’ve told me multiple times, and I was there.” Yuri scoffs. “It wasn’t even your first meeting.”

“It was for me!”

“That’s because you have amnesia. Hurry up, Katsudon’s been fending off Yakov for long enough.”

Yuri heads for the two, and Victor trails after him, making pitiable noises.

“Yakov.”

“Yakov! I found Yura!”

Yakov scowls. “I told you two to come here as soon as you stepped off the plane! We need to hurry to check in on time. That means no stopping at stores, Vitya!”

He turns back to Yuuri. “Katsuki, walk with me.”

The four of them start towards the hotel, Yuuri and Yakov in front of the other two, talking. Yuri watches them with an astonished look on his face.

“Are they getting along?” he questions after seeing Yuuri say something and Yakov let out a short laugh.

“He’s inspiring, isn’t he? Even Yakov, in his old age and blindness, can see that.” Victor replies, gazing at Yuuri like a lovestruck puppy.

“I can hear you!” Yakov snaps, looking behind him in order to properly scold Victor. “Don’t think I won’t make you run suicides just because your short program is tomorrow!”

While Yakov continues to lecture, Yuuri beckons the other skater over. “Yura.”

Yuri jogs over to him, side-eyeing Victor as the silver-haired skate pouts. Yakov snaps his fingers rapidly, reminiscent of Lilia, and Victor sheepishly turns his attention back over to him.

“What’s up?” Yuri asks.

“Coach Yakov was telling me about how your rink mate lifts you into the air.”

“What?! I— you balding snitch!” Yuri hisses at Yakov as said man shrugs, acting as if he hadn’t done anything.

“I didn’t know you were into pair skating,” Yuuri teases. “You could’ve been doing that but you choose men’s singles instead?”

“Yeah, well someone needs to keep you on your toes.”

“Yura, the _living legend_ is only a couple meters away.”

“The living legend is an idiot. Just wait and see.”

Sure enough, Victor tries to sneak into a shop five minutes later. Yuuri and Yuri watch from the sidelines as Yakov has to pull on the back of Victor’s hood and drag him away.

“But Yakov!”

“But nothing. You can run away after we check-in. I will not have a repeat of last year’s Worlds!”

“What happened?” Yuuri whispers.

“At Worlds?” Yuri asks as Yuuri nods. “Victor was too enamored with watching videos of other people’s routine and missed his flight. Yakov was sitting alone, waiting for him, and the old man was still at the terminal.”

“Did it work out at the end?”

“Yeah, but only because Victor got on his knees and begged Yakov for forgiveness.”

Said man leads them to the front of a sleek building, a shrieking Victor tagging behind him. The doors slide open, and they step in, the bright lights shining down from upon.

“Good afternoon, do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, under Feltsman. We’ll need three cards.” Yakov shows his passport and credit card, and the receptionist hands him his requested items.

“Rooms 244 and 246.”

“I have to share a room with Victor?” Yuri hisses. “Why?”

Yakov raises an eyebrow. “You’re fifteen. I’m not letting you room by yourself.”

Yuri huffs, crossing his arms as he looks away and scowls. “And grouping me with Victor helps in what scenario.”

“What if someone tries to kidnap you?”

“Please; if anything, he’s the one who needs someone with him so he doesn’t get kidnapped. I’ll slice them up with my skates. Victor will just scream and cry.”

“Hey!” the silver-haired skater protests. “I don’t cry!”

“Yes, you do. You’re like that water ghost lady. Right, Katsudon?”

After no hearing a reply from Yuuri, Yuri frowns, turning around to find that the Japanese man had disappeared from behind him.

“Katsudon?”

“Over here!”

Yuuri’s standing in front of the receptionist desk, a hotel card in hand. “Sorry, I went to check-in. What happened?”

“Don’t apologize. Tell Victor he’s like that ghost who cries for her dead children.” Yuri says.

“I don’t have children! In fact, I’m single. _Very single._ ”

Yuri fake gags as Yuuri looks at the two of them with confusion. “Yura, are you talking about the weeping woman? What does she have to do with Victor?”

“Nevermind. It wasn’t anything important.”

Now that everyone in their makeshift group has checked in, Yakov pushes them towards the elevators. As soon as they arrive on their floor he barks out instructions to not go out alone before entering his room and shutting the door with a resounding click.

“What room are you in? I’m going to run off there.” Yuri asks, looking over at Yuuri’s card.

“Um, 245. Speaking of, let me drop off my bags first.”

Yuri nods, and Yuuri disappears into the room across from his for a moment before reappearing, stepping into the room that Victor unlocked with his card. “We’re almost next door to each other.”

“Next door?” Victor cuts in, looking a bit too excited at the prospect of Yuuri nearby. “Are you competing in Skate Canada?”

“Are you kidding? Do you really not know who your competitors are?” Yuri rolls his eyes. Victor has enough shame to look guilty, though his attention is still mainly focused on Yuuri.

“I’m actually just here as an observer,” Yuuri explains. “Plus, I had to come to support Yura. He’s one of the best skaters I know!”

Yuri preens at the praise, shooting a smug look to Victor, who is on the verge of pouting. _Serves him right. This is payback for all the times I had to listen to you pine like a shitty teenager._

“I’ll be skating too! Will you watch me?” Victor asks. “There’s no one here, but my Makka is cheering me on at home!”

“Your dog?”

“Yes! Would you like to see pictures?”

Hesitantly, Yuuri nods. Victor beams, gesturing for him to come over. Yuuri slowly sits down next to Victor on his bed, posture tense. Victor scoots closer, pressing the sides of their arms together as he shows Yuuri his phone.

“This is when Makka was still a puppy. Isn’t he just the cutest? Oh, and this was at one of his birthdays! I bought a dog cake that was shaped like a bone, and Makka ate it all!”

Yuri tunes Victor out as he unpacks, moving his toiletries into the bathroom, which he has to share with Victor. Yuri shivers at the thought before taking out his costumes and hanging them up.

“You know, this reminds me of how Yura and I met.” Yuuri offhandedly remarks.

“He brought you to his hotel and showed you pictures of his dog?”

“He showed me pictures of his cat, Potya.”

“Ahh. Puma Tiger Scorpian.” Victor nods. “She’s mean.”

“Only because she has good tastes.” Yuri snorts, flipping Victor off when he sticks his tongue out at him.

Victor opens his mouth to say something before deciding against it and instead leaning in on Yuuri, placing his hands on the flustered Japanese’s shoulders. “Yuuri! Who do you like better: my lovely Makka, or Yura’s evil cat?” 

“I...um…they’re both nice. I can’t really compare them, since they’re from different species.” Yuuri says, voice getting quieter with each word.

“Katsudon, that’s complete bullshit. Potya’s obviously the best.”

“You’re biased; it doesn’t count.” Victor huffs as he crosses his arms. 

“And you aren’t? Makkachin bit me when I was ten.” Yuri says, glaring at Victor. “And I’m not convinced _he_ didn’t teach her how to.”

“You were fine! It’s not like Makka has rabies.”

“Well, Potya’s never bitten anyone before. She’s an angel.”

“Potya glares at me like I’m mud on the bottom of someone’s shoe.”

“Because you are!”

“I’m sure both Makkachin and Potya are lovely pets.” Yuuri finally says, giving Yuri a strict look when he tries to protest. “Why don’t we focus on something else?”

“Is there anywhere you’d like to go, Yuuri?” Victor asks.

“Who said anything about you tagging along?” 

“Oh, but Yura,” Victor says, flashing him a trouble-making grin. “Yakov said we were supposed to go in groups. Are you going to leave me here, all alone?”

“Yes.”

“I think it’ll be fine. We could get dinner afterward too.” Yuuri says, much to Victor’s delight.

“Dinner, of course! Right, it’s settled.” Victor jumps up and heads for the door, glancing back at Yuuri and Yuri, who hadn’t budged. “Aren’t you two coming?”

Yuuri scrambles after Victor as Yuri follows next to him, bumping shoulders with the dark-haired skater. Yuuri bumps back, reaching up to affectionately tousle the back on his head. “Feeling alright?”

Yuri nods. “Potya is better though, right?”

Yuuri breathes out a laugh. “Sure, Yura.”

“Ha! Take that, you crusty old man!”

“That’s not fair!”

\- - - -

Somehow, dinner was a peaceful affair. Yuuri and Yuri conversed while Yakov, who had come down to join them, barely paid attention to Victor’s ramblings about what they had done that day.

After, Yakov ushered all three of them to bed. “Skate Canda is tomorrow morning, so you need to rest. None of you will be showing up with bags under your eyes. That includes you, Katsuki! And for the love of everything holy, Yura, don’t cause a ruckus!”

Yuuri enters his own room, shaking off his coat and laying it on the back of his chair. He unpacks his bag and gets ready for bed. Just as Yuuri hangs up from his call with his family, he gets a knock at the door.

There stands Yuri, dressed in old, loose clothing and holding his phone, looking way too alert for someone who was supposed to be asleep an hour ago.

“Yura?”

“Victor snores. Can I come in?” he replies. Yuuri moves out of the doorway, and Yuri steps in, looking around.

“Why do you have two beds?” he asks, sitting on the one that Yuuri hadn’t claimed.

Yuuri shrugs. “It was all they had left. They’re overbooked with all the people coming in for tomorrow’s competition. Plus, there’s a football tournament not that far away that’s happening tomorrow as well.”

“Great. Then, since you don’t plan on eros-ing someone into your room, can I sleep here instead?”

“Sure, but are you okay?” Yuri’s voice sounded off. Yuuri glances over him and notes that he’s wringing his hands, a habit of Yuuri’s that he must’ve picked up. His back is straight, almost as if he was anticipating something.

“Yura, are you nervous?” Yuuri asks, coming over to sit next to him.

“I’m fine,” Yuri says, even as his shoulders start to tremble. Yuuri hovers an arm over him, and when Yuri nods, wraps in around his shoulders. 

“It’s fine if you have nerves. It doesn’t mean you won’t win.” Yuuri murmurs, looking out the window and into the night, lit up by the city’s warm glow.

Yuri leans into him, shaking out his hands. “I know. I just want to do well.”

“And you will,” Yuuri says firmly. “You’re going to have one of the best senior debuts for your generation.”

“Thanks, Katsudon.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They sit together, basking in comfortable silence before Yuuri speaks up. “Everything’s going to be okay. Just do your best.”

Yuri doesn’t reply. Frowning, Yuuri turns his head to the side, only to find Yuri asleep, letting out quiet puffs through his mouth.

Yuuri’s face morphs into a soft smile as he shifts Yuri’s body to the head of the bed. The blonde curls in on himself, still dead to the world. Yuuri pulls the blankets over him, and is reminded of tucking in Yukko’s triplets during his stay in Hasetsu.

“Goodnight Yura,” he says, turning off the lights in the room and slipping into his own bed. It’s quiet, though the sound of Yuri breathes and the city below them stops the silence from becoming eerie. With the lights off, only specks of brightness shine through from the window, casting faint shadows at the foot of Yuuri’s bed. His eyelids start to feel heavy, and Yuuri burrows deeper into his pillow, feeling drowsy. 

Just before sleep can fully overtake him, Yuuri hears a quiet mumble back. “G’night…”

That night, he drifts off with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you couldn't tell already, I'm really, really bad at ending chapters, so I'll try my best to get better at that.
> 
> The crying ghost lady Yuri mentions is La Llorona, a Spanish legend. One version goes that her husband left her after she gave had two sons, choosing to run off to marry a rich lady. When he came to visit, he would only pay attention to her sons. One day it got so bad that she, in a fit of envy and rage, drowned them. She tried to save them after, but it was too late. There are different versions of this, but the general consensus is that her sons died and she mourns for them at riverbanks. Oh, and she kills people who get too close. In the version of the legend I described, Victor represents la Llorona, Yuuri the husband, and Yuri the two sons.
> 
> The football I'm talking about is the sport where your foot meets the ball, as in soccer for my American readers.
> 
> I know Yuri's suppose to be self-assured and everything, but it's his first competition. I feel like he likes to think of a single outcome, and if it doesn't come true he'll adapt, but only when it doesn't come true, hence why I didn't mention the possibility of him losing. Yuuri, on the other hand, thinks through all possible scenarios. Kind of like, "if I lose, I'll still have another chance in...", whereas Yuri's sort of just like, "Yeah I'm going to win. If I don't? Well, I will, so..."
> 
> Victor's going to wake up and think Yuri's been kidnapped or something. This is more a reminder for me so I remember to actually write that in (rip to all the witty dialogue I've thought of only to forget it as soon as I sit down to write), but there you go, that's the beginning of the next chapter.
> 
> Also! If you want a bonus chapter of them going around town and chilling, let me know!
> 
> (The way I space out my footnotes isn't even consistent, so just... don't go back and look at them?)
> 
> Edit: An additional thing to note: Victor doesn't actually snore. Yuri lies so he has an excuse to go to Yuuri's room.


	13. A Dream That Won’t End in This World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Today's been insane; half my classes were canceled because of technological issues. I'd like to say I spent that time writing this chapter, but in all honesty, I just took a nap. We're so so close to skating routines, meaning I have to go back and find their choreographs. This is why I have to YOI wiki page bookmarked.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Not edited.

Yuuri wakes up to rapid knocking on his door, the sound piercing through the veil of sleep. He throws off the covers, fumbling for the glasses he placed on his nightstand.

He makes his way to the door, pushing back the plate blocking the peephole, only to push his lips together in order to prevent a shriek from coming out once he saw who it was. 

Yuuri’s hand tremble as unlocks the door and creaks it open, coming face to face with Victor, who was staring at him with a panicked expression on his face.

“Yuuri! Have you seen Yura? I woke up and he wasn’t there and it doesn’t even look like he’s slept in his bed and Yakov’s going to kill me if I lost him!”

Yuuri is quick to correct him, waving his hands back and forth. “Yura’s not lost. He’s... why don’t you come in?”

He steps back, shutting the door after Victor complies. Yuuri beckons him forward, putting a finger on his lips.

Victor creeps forward, shoulders sagging in relief when he spots Yuri peacefully sleeping away. He turns to Yuuri and flashes him a bright smile. “I should have known he would come to you!”

Yuuri bows his head and nods, avoiding eye contact with the other skater. Here he was, in his ratty pajamas, hair mussed up from sleep, teeth not brushed, and face not washed. And then there was Victor, who looked him he stepped out of a sports magazine. Said man had already donned on his iconic red and white jacket, his hair styled with not a single strand out of place.

“You should wake him up,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll get ready.”

Without waiting for a reply, Yuuri ducks into the bathroom, locking the door with a resounding click. He lets out a deep breath, lifting his head up at the mirror to stare at himself. A familiar yet not completely welcomed face stares back up at him, and he sighs, tearing his gaze away.

While reaching for his toothpaste, Yuuri comes to the sudden realization that he left his clothes in the other room. Briefly, he considers going back outside to retrieve them, but the thought of having to explain to Victor Nikiforov what had happened was too mortifying for his early morning brain, and perhaps his brain the rest of the time as well.

He resigns himself to staying holed up in the bathroom until Victor leaves, glancing back up at the mirror. His reflection seems to be giving him a disappointed look, dark hair sticking out at gravity-defying angles only adding to it, and Yuuri lets out a weary huff, giving himself a small nod of agreement. “Yeah, me too.”

\- - - -

As Yuuri’s drying his hair, he can hear voices from the other side of the door. He presses up against the door, listening to the sudden influx of volume.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, Skate Canada’s being held here today, so probably because of that.”

“You know what I meant, old man. Why are you in Katsudon’s room?”

Yuri pauses after thinking, seemingly thinking over something. “On second thought, where is Katsudon? You didn’t do anything to him, did you?”

“He’s in the bathroom.”

“Bathroom? Then why are you here?”

“Hey, I was worried about you!”

“Sure thing. Can you leave now? Your stupidity is disrupting the atmosphere.”

“Yura!”

“Go bother Yakov. We’ll join him later.” Yuuri hears Yuri say as Victor huffs, slowly exiting the room.

A moment later, Yuri calls out to him. “Katsudon? You good?”

Yuuri peaks his head out and sees Yuri sitting up in bed, clutching his blanket to his chest. His eyes were aware, though his body hadn’t seemed to catch up yet, shoulders slumped and face drowsy.

“Good morning! Mind getting me my clothes? I should have them laid out on the armchair.”

Yuri nods, shuffling out of bed to reach out and grab his clothing. Suddenly, he drops Yuuri’s jacket, choosing instead to hold up his other pieces of clothing and glare at them.

“Katsudon, what on earth is this? You’re practically wearing a cloth bag, and in that shade of blue.”

“They’re not that baggy! And I like blue.” Yuuri weakly protests. “Besides, it’s not like you have better tastes.”

Yuri gets that mad glint in his eye, the one that signals nothing but trouble for Yuuri, and the blonde turns to face him, a question in his eyes. Yuuri sighs fondly. “It can’t have animal print.”

Nodding, Yuri grabs his room key and leave, swiftly returning with a red scarf and dark coat. He hands them at Yuuri, who takes the bundle and shakes it out. Yuri then moves back to Yuuri’s open suitcase and pulls out a dress shirt. The only thing left from Yuuri’s original chosen stash of clothes are his jeans, and Yuuri suspects that’s only because he wouldn’t fit into the blonde's.

“The coat’s from Dedushka,” Yuri explains. “But it was too big for me. It still is, but just barely, so it should fit you fine. And I stole the scarf.”

Yuuri all but chokes, grabbing at the edge of the doorway in order not to fall. He shoots Yuri an exasperated look, with the other giving him a delighted grin in return.

“Yura!”

“Fine, fine. I didn’t actually rob someone. I stole it with their permission.” Yuri tells him gleefully as if he were recounting a good grade he received in class.

“I— hand me the shirt, please. And go get ready; you still need to eat breakfast.”

Yuuri swiftly changes, tucking in his shirt and slinging the scarf around his neck as he would a tie. The inside of the hotel was warm enough that a scarf would be suffocating rather than helpful. 

He steps out to an empty room and gathers his necessities, tucking them into the pockets of his borrowed coat. Yuuri shuts the door behind him before turning around and nearly crashing into Yuri.

The teen is wearing his Team Russia jacket, a hoodie tucked underneath it. He blinks in surprise as he runs into Yuuri’s collarbones, his skate bag tumbling on behind him. Yuuri grasps his shoulders, steadying him, and turns him around to face the end of the hallway. 

“Breakfast?”

“I want tea.”

“With jam?”

“Just as anyone sane does.”

They step into the elevator, which makes to close behind them with a soft ding. Before that can happen, though, they can hear a voice from the other side.

Yuuri places his hand between the sliding doors, causing them to move apart once more. Once the gap is wide enough, someone steps in, and Yuuri lifts an eyebrow once he recognizes Yakov.

“Coach Yakov, good morning.” Yuuri greets. Yakov is wearing a long coat and blue scarf, a familiar outfit Yuuri had seen countless times both on TV and at other competitions.

“Katsuki, Yura. Where’s the other one?”

Yuri shrugs. “Probably eating.”

Yakov hums in agreement, and they are silent for the rest of the albeit short ride. They reach the lobby level, the elevator letting them out with a soft ding.

Yuri gets his tea alongside a plate of carrots and hummus that he shares with Yuuri. They make their way towards the dining area, keeping an eye out for silver hair.

Just as Yuri assumed, Victor is sitting by himself at a table meant for four, his own bag tucked underneath his chair. In front of him is a cup of yogurt and fruit, which he is absent-mindedly pushing around. When he sees the three of them, he drops his fork and waves.

“Hello! Where have you three been?” He smiles up at them, but it becomes strained when he looks at Yuuri, eyes flickering upwards.

Yakov seems to notice. “Are you alright, Vitya?”

“Fine, fine! I’m perfectly fine!”

Yakov scoffs, sitting down next to him. “Sure.”

Yuuri and Yuri take a seat across them, and Victor turns his attention to Yuuri once more. “You look nice!”

Yuuri decides that was the best time to swallow while also trying to gasp in shock. He ends up coughing down his food, his face warming. “Thank you. I look forward to seeing you perform today.”

Victor beams, placing his chin on the top of his conjoined hands. “Don’t take your eyes off me, okay?”

Yuuri nods, flashing him a quick smile. His hands reach up to tug at the scarf around his neck, twirling the edge of it around his wrist. Victor follows the movement with a certain sense of hunger in eyes, though Yuuri doesn’t notice, too caught up in calming himself down.

Yuri does, and gets a glint in his eye that can only be described as triumph. “Say, Victor, what are you staring at? Something caught your attention?”

 ** _“You said you were cold!”_** Victor hisses, drawing his attention away from Yuuri in order to glare at the younger skater.

 ** _“I’m Russian, and you’re an idiot.”_** Yuri retorts, hiding his grin behind his cup.

Yakov looks back and forth at the two of them, being the only other person at the table who could understand them. Slowly, realization dawns on his face, and he brings his hand up to his forehead, using his thumb and index finger to dig into the bone underneath his eyebrows, trying to relieve his oncoming headache. _**“Yura, stop trying to sabotage him. You two have to compete today.”**_

“Huh?” Yuuri’s attention is drawn into the conversation, having heard Yuri’s name. “Yura, what did you do?”

“Victor says I’m bad at putting together outfits,” Yuri grumbles. “Like he has any room to argue.”

“Well, Yura helped me dress today. Which is to say, he insulted my previous clothes and dumped me new ones.”

“Katsudon, I can’t allow you to go outside wearing an off-blue cloth bag.”

_“He dressed you today, did he?”_

Yakov sighs, grumbling something under his breath before standing up and snapping. “Practice will be starting soon. We can’t be late. Katsuki, you’re coming with me.”

“I am?” Yakov gives him a look and Yuuri rapidly nods. “I am! Yes, of course.”

“Excellent.”

They take a taxi to the stadium, with Yakov in the front and Yuuri between Victor and Yuri. Every so often, they’ll go over a bump or an especially sharp turn, and Victor’s or Yuri’s shoulder will press against his. Yuuri didn’t know whether to push back against Yuri or hold himself upright so Victor wouldn’t have to touch him. It made for an...interesting trip, to say the least.

By the time they arrived, Yuuri was all but ready to exit the taxi. Yakov sent him a sympathetic look and pats his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

_**“Why won’t he touch me?”** _

**_“Because you’re a crusty old man!”_ **

Yakov’s eye twitches, and he marches up to the two Russian skaters. “Both of you to the changing rooms right now! Into your costumes! Official warm-up starts in fifteen minutes and both of you will be on the ice by that time, do you understand?”

Yuri scoffs at Yakov before turning to Yuuri. He doesn’t say anything, but Yuuri can see his fingers twitch and slowly creep together, interlocking and loosening.

“Go on,” he says. “I’ll be watching your warm-up.”

Yuri nods, moving to grip the handle of his skate bag instead. “I’m going to do more jumps than Victor.”

With that, he walks away, his bag wheeling behind him. Yuuri can’t help but laugh, feeling a tad guilty when he spots Victor pouting at him.

“Yuuri!” he says, bouncing in place before drooping like a willow tree. “Yura won’t beat me, will he? Do you think he’s managed to learn a new jump in two days?”

Yuuri stifles another laugh, shrugging as he puts his hands up in surrender. 

“Vitya, stop moping and go follow Yura,” Yakov instructs.

Victor lets out a loud exhale before dragging himself in the direction that Yuri went, mumbling something in Russian along the way.

Sighing for what must have been the tenth time that day, Yakov leads Yuuri to the stands, sitting down on the bleachers closest to the edge of the rink.

“Are you alright, Coach?”

“Tell me Katsuki,” he murmurs. “What did I do to deserve this. I haven’t committed any serious crimes. I pay my taxes on time, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Is this because of Lilia? I swear that woman is a witch. She and her cult of ballerinas probably cursed me.”

“Coach, I think you might be overexaggerating.”

“Your coach is Cialdini, isn’t he?”

“Um, yes?”

“Do you think he would take on one of my skaters? He can have anyone he wants.”

“Even Victor?”

“ _Especially_ Vitya.”

“I don’t—”

Yuuri cuts himself off when he spots the skaters coming out. “Coach, look!”

Yakov lifts his head. As the speaker officially declares the start of Skate Canada, squints his eyes at the group of skater before groaning. “JJ’s talking to Yura again.”

“It looks like they’re drawing lots.” Yuuri offers.

Yuri pulls out a slip, lifting it up to show the 1 he drew. Victor goes next, drawing a 3. The rest of the skaters go after them. JJ pumps his fist into the air and does his signature stance after he draws 2.

“At least it’s over sooner,” Yuuri says as Yakov nods.

The skaters step onto the ice and immediately are focused, gliding around gracefully before taking leaps into the air. Everything seems normal until Yuri skates into Victor’s direct point of view and does a Quad Salchow.

The crowd cheers. Yuri is smirking as he skates away. Victor gains a competitive look on his face. And Yakov…

Well, Yakov is red, hands in his hair as he looks like he would rather be anywhere than here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The scarf was inspired by this image of Victor in a scarf. I think it's some kind of promotional scene/ just a scene in the new movie?
> 
> If you couldn't tell, the bold italic writing is them speaking in Russian. I was going to just use italics, but I also use that for emphasis, so it wouldn't be cohesive.
> 
> Have any of you watched Beetlejuice? The movie, the musical, either one works. I was thinking about a Beetlejuice AU, with Yuri as Lydia and Victuuri as the ghost couple. And, I don't know, JJ can be Beetlejuice or something. Would that work?


	14. When Anticipation Turns Into Excitement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri slips in, eyeing Yakov suspiciously. “That was shit.”
> 
> “I knew it. _I knew it._ ” Yakov groans. Yuuri hums in sympathy, motioning for Yuri to sit down. The blonde complies, rolling his eyes at Yakov’s reaction.
> 
> “He’s always like this,” he tells Yuuri. “He looks professional in front of the cameras, but all he really does is complain.”
> 
> “Because that’s what _you_ do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Hi. Listen, I can explain myself. Usually, I try to update Monday/Tuesday, but I had this big project due so that took up my time. Then I had tests every day after that, so it was kinda hectic. Not really an excuse, more of me ranting because I swear school is just a cult of teachers banding together to make everything due on the same day.
> 
> But anyway, I'm back now! Unless I say, I probably won't be on hiatus or abandoning this. If I don't update on time, just assume that I've procrastinated.
> 
> This isn't tomorrow's update btw, it's still for last week, meaning there should be another chapter up in a day or so! Enjoy!

“Good morning everyone, and welcome to Skate Canada!”

“You don’t have to sound so chipper.”

“I’m Liam Tremblay, with my co-commentator Elijah Campbell. We’re here to narrate today’s short programs for all you lovely folks!”

“We’re also here because we get paid.”

“First up is Yuri Plistesky with his senior debut! He’ll be skating to On Love: Agape. Interesting track choice. There are other variations of this song as well. In fact, I believe Japanese skater Yuuri Katsuki is skating to On Love: Eros.”

“He’s right there; you could just ask him.”

“We start with a downward pose, very nice. Plisetsky’s very fluid, almost like he’s gliding.”

“It’s almost as if he was on ice. At a figure skating competition. Oh look, here’s his first jump. It’s a triple axel. Plisetsky nails it, landing smoothly and immediately transitioning back to the choreography.”

“This was choreographed by the Living Legend himself, Victor Nikiforov, who will be skating third today! You can tell Nikiforov’s a master of his craft.”

“His primary craft is skating, not choreography.”

“Next comes a flying sit spin. What a jump! That certainly was higher than I expected for a greenie!”

“It’s not like this is his first time skating…”

“His costume reminds me of one of Nikiforov’s junior pieces. It’s so sparkly and white! Eli, what do you think?”

“Oh, so now you want to acknowledge my presence. Regarding his costume, you’re only saying that because they’re on the same team and you’re looking for a connection.”

“I like the tufts. It makes it look like he has wings!”

“I’d certainly like to have a pair of wings right about now.”

“What for?”

“To fly away from this conversation. Here comes another spin. It’s a change-foot camel. Not bad.”

“Have his spins gotten better?”

“Yes, Tremblay, that’s what practice will do to you. It’s an unfortunate side effect.”

“But he’s way better than before. They’ve evolved, in some sort of way. But why would he practice spins, and not jumps instead? Being a spin master isn’t that interesting, after all.”

“I know you did not just diss Katsuki like that.”

“He can do step sequences and spin though! They kind of blend into this graceful amalgamation of ice dance!”

“You know ice dance is an actual sport separate from figure skating, right?.”

“I know my ice sports, Eli!”

“Sure you do. Plisetsky’s first quad will be a part of a Quad Salchow Triple Toe Loop combination.”

“He has his next quad after this as well! I wonder which one he’ll do.”

“It’s a Toe Loop. Did you not read the booklet?”

“There was a booklet?”

“...A flawless Quad Toe Loop from Plisetsky, who immediately transitions into his step sequence.”

“Wait, what booklet?”

“I’ll tell you later. Plisetsky’s steps are particularly elegant this time around.”

“I knew it, his step sequences gotten better too! It kind of feels different as well? Maybe because Nikiforov choreographed it.”

“If that’s what Nikiforov’s step sequences look like, I’m the god of figure skating.”

“What?”

“And you call yourself a commentator. Have you never seen Yuuri Katsuki skate before?”

“I—”

“Don’t answer that. One last combination spin. Everyone, give it up for Yuri Plisetsky.”

“I always thought combination spins made then look like human tops. And the coming up and bending down again part reminds me of those carousel animals that went up and down the pole.”

“We are going to have a long talk after this.”

“This is his first time at the senior kiss and cry! They grow up so fast, don’t they?”

“You literally did not know he existed before this, Tremblay.”

“And the score for Yuri Plisetsky is...99.9! So close, yet so far.”

“Plisetsky is currently in first place. Next will be Jean Jaques Leroy, better known as JJ Leroy.”

“A native Canadian! Listen to the cheers from that stadium.”

“Plisetsky’s making a face of disgust. I mean, he isn’t wrong. Just, what has Leroy ever done to him?”

“But I love JJ style!”

“So? Who said you had good taste?”

\- - - -

“99.9 is a great score,” Yuuri says, gently patting an agitated looking Yakov on the shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“But it’s not what he wanted, and now he’s going to sulk about it until the next competition. I can’t do this again, Katsuki. Once, when Yura was still a junior, he couldn’t score above a 95 and ended up hissing at me.”

“How could he have gotten above a 95 without quads though?”

“ _Exactly._ Katsuki, you’re my only hope. Yura seems to listen to you; do you think you could calm him down?”

Yuuri glances over at Yuri, who is making his way towards them. “He seems pretty calm to me.”

“It’s just the calm before the storm.”

Yuri slips in, eyeing Yakov suspiciously. “That was shit.”

“I knew it. _I knew it._ ” Yakov groans. Yuuri hums in sympathy, motioning for Yuri to sit down. The blonde complies, rolling his eyes at Yakov’s reaction.

“He’s always like this,” he tells Yuuri. “He looks professional in front of the cameras, but all he really does is complain.”

“Because that’s what _you_ do.”

“Um, guys?” Yuuri points to an incoming interviewer, with a cameraman trailing after him. “You might want to put on that camera persona you keep talking about.”

Yakov straightens his back from his previously slumped posture, hardening his face. Yuri simply scoffs and crosses his arms.

“Plisetsky! And...is that Katsuki?”

“Morooka!”

The Japanese reporter beams. “That’s me! What are you doing here? There aren’t any other Japanese skaters this season.”

“Well, I’m actually here for this,” Yuuri replies, vaguely gesturing to the area around him.

“Russia? Have you come to see Nikiforov then?”

Yuuri looks over at Yuri, trying to convey his panic through his eyes. Yuri huffs, looking up at Morooka. “Katsuki’s here for _me_.”

“Really?”

Yuuri nods, less nervous now that he had nothing to hide. Morooka gestures for the cameraman to come closer, and situates him so that both Yuuri and Yuri are on screen, Yakov peakings off to the side.

“And how do you think Plisetsky’s short program went?” Morooka asks.

“I thought it was wonderful! You could see all the hard work and dedication he put into it. His jumps were amazing as always, especially with this being his first time performing quads in competition.”

“There’s something else you want to say,” Yuri says. “Tell him.”

Yuuri subtly elbows him, and Yuri retaliates, knocking his elbow into Yuuri’s arm. Morooka watches on in interest as they seemingly come to a silent agreement and Yuuri sighs.

“It’s just that in the middle of his step sequences, he does this move he’s not supposed to.”

"It _always_ bugs him. Yakov doesn't even notice."

“Not that it ruined the choreography or anything!” Yuuri hastily adds. “Just that it wasn’t originally there.”

“What makes you say that?”

“There was a move that got changed. When I was practicing with the new move I would keep turning as if to do the previous one,” Yuri explains.

“Well, I didn’t even notice a mistake! It was a very smooth performance, I must say. An excellent way to kick off Skate Canda.”

Morooka starts questioning Yuri, who answers back as politely as he can. Yuuri swaps places with Yakov, turning his attention instead on the TV currently displaying JJ. The skater is wearing a pale purple costume with dark accents, and from the back, it looks like a glorified tracksuit. Yuuri tunes back in once he hears his name being called.

“Another question for you, Katsuki.”

“Of course.”

“We had interviewed JJ Leroy before Plisetsky and were discussing the new competition he had. We asked him a question that we’d like for you to answer as well.”

Yuuri peeks up at the Canadian skater on screen again, who was in mid-air, the dark purple stripes reflecting the light of the stadium. “Sure!”

“Alright, here it is: are you intimidated by the new competition?”

“You mean by Plisetsky? I suppose.” Yuuri shrugs, much to the disbelief of everyone in the room.

“Could you please elaborate?” The camera is shifting to what only Yuuri can assume is his face. He twists his fingers in his lap, thinking about the best way to convey how he felt.

“I highly respect Plisetsky. He’s an incredible skater, so of course, it’s intimidating to be in the same circuit as him. Being a new senior shouldn’t discredit his abilities. He's our equal, and should be treated as such.”

Morooka nods. “Thank you for participating, Katsuki!”

Yuuri smiles, waving in the direction of the camera. “Anytime!”

They wrap up the interview by talking to Yuri and Yakov some more, leaving once the music from the TV ends. Once they do, Yuri leans towards Yuuri, letting out a sigh. “I hate interviews.”

“I thought you did well. I mean, I didn’t hear any loud voices, so something must have gone right.” Yuuri says. JJ had stepped off the ice and was making his way towards the kiss and cry, waving towards his cheering fans along the way.

“That might have been the first time you didn’t spend the entire time glaring at the reporter,” Yakov remarks, looking begrudgingly impressed.

“I don’t glare at them.”

“Yes, you do. I don’t know how you managed to get your ‘ice fairy’ nickname with the attitude you give off.”

“Piss off you balding divorcee.”

They watch with bated breath as the announcer comes on, bringing with them the final score count for JJ’s short program.

110.56.

Yuri’s shoulders slump, and his face is dark, angry ready to spew out. Yakov is also starting to grumble under his breath, shooting glances in Yuri's direction, and so Yuuri is quick to relieve the growing hostile atmosphere, “Coach, why don’t Yura and I step out for a bit? You can watch Victor’s performance and by the time you two return from the kiss and cry we’ll be back.”

Yakov frowns, starting to protest, but stops when he sees the expression on Yuri’s face. He waves them away, drawing his eyes to the screen as Victor comes into view, oblivious to the current predicament his team was in.

Yuuri places a hand on Yuri’s back and pushes him up, leading them out to the biting cold. Shivering, Yuuri wraps his red scarf tighter around him. Yuri doesn’t seem to be as affected, though he does throw on the hood of his thin jacket.

They walk around in silence for a while, never straying far enough from the stadium to where they couldn’t see it. Yuuri watches as Yuri kicks around stray pebbles, digging the point of his shoe into the ground.

“It’s not fair.”

Yuri has stopped moving, instead of staring ahead at the lone tree, its branches barren and bark peeling off. Yuuri doesn't know how to respond. He thinks he hasn’t ever really known how to respond, ever since he was a child.

So instead, he listens.

“JJ doesn’t get to win. He doesn’t get to insult my work and my career and throw me aside only to best me. He doesn’t get to be interviewed and talk about how I’m nothing to him and then get a higher score. He doesn’t get to tell people: _‘Plisetsky? You mean the wannabe Victor?’_ , and get 110. _He doesn’t._ ”

Yuuri doesn’t know if he’s noticed, but Yuri is shaking, trembling like a lone leaf clinging onto its branches as the wind tries to blow it aside. Whether angry or cold, Yuuri doesn’t know, but either way, he slips off his jacket, warm from being worn by Yuuri all day and warm from the picture of Yuri’s grandfather he found tucked away in a pocket, and slips it over Yuri’s shoulders.

“It’s not fair, Katsudon. He can’t just act egotistical and sit on his throne of high and mighty. He can’t beat _you_ when your dog died and he probably doesn’t even know any emotion other than his obese ego.”

 _“Yura,”_ is all Yuuri can say before he reaches out and wraps his arm around Yuri’s shoulder, drawing him in. “Life isn’t a fair game. The only winners are those who learn to bounce back from their situation. Yes, JJ took first. But one day, so will you. And, you can’t change your short program, but there’s still the free skate tomorrow.”

“I want to go to Barcelona. I want to stand on the podium with you, and hold my medal out in front of the audience and the cameras. Katsudon, I want to _win._ ”

“And you will,” Yuuri reassures. “But that starts with picking yourself back up. I’m trying my best to stand next to you on that podium, but that started with me lacing up my skates again for the first time in months. That started with you.”

“Me?”

“I was going to retire before you convinced me out of it. Yura, _you_ did that. You encouraged me to seek out Minako for my choreography, you helped improved my skating, you taught me a quad. And you aren’t just a good athlete. Who calmed me down before regionals and shooed away creeps on my behalf?”

Yuri lets out a small bark of laughter. “I am pretty amazing, aren’t I?”

“You are. I know this, you know this. JJ can call you whatever he wants, but that doesn’t change who you are. I’m _so_ proud of you, Yura, for who you are and who you’re going to become.”

Yuri nods, tilting his head into Yuuri’s shoulder. “Thanks, Katsudon.”

“Don’t mention it. Where do you want to go now?”

“Back inside. You’re cold, that tree over there is depressing, and I think Victor’s performance should be over by now.”

“I think the tree looks nice. It’s just waiting to regrow its leaves.”

“It looks like it’s naked.”

“It still has bark on.”

“So it’s stripped down to its undergarments, then.”

When they get back, they find Yakov and Victor where they had previously been, watching the next competitor, Emil Nekola, skate. Yakov starts to rise from his seat but Yuri waves him off, returning the jacket on his shoulders to Yuuri.

“What are the scores so far?” he asks, his voice an even tone.

“Victor’s first, JJ’s second, and you’re third,” Yakov replies, searching Yuri’s face for his reaction.

The blonde takes his time to process this information, leaving the room tense with anticipation. Eventually, he nods and sits down next to Victor, focusing on the screen and silently ignoring those around him.

Yakov doesn’t let out a sigh of relief, but his shoulders slump so hard and fast that Yuuri thinks that might mean more. “Thank you, Katsuki.”

“Anytime,” he says and means it with all the feelings he can hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! What an emotional rollercoaster. As I was writing, I thought about separating it, just because the tones are so different, but the chapter would be super short because I don't know how to elongate scenes. Speaking of, did you like the only commentator dialogue? Shoutout to Imshookandbi, because they gave me showed me how to create names, and instead, I plagiarized their examples. Tysm for that, and please don't sue me.
> 
> I know that it's a big troupe to hide friendships from the press, but Yuri got mad when Morooka assumed that Yuuri was here for Victor because Katsudon's his friend and Victor's nothing more than a lovesick puppy who happens to skate well.
> 
> JJ isn't meant to be the villain in this story, he's just trying to win like everyone else. But, Yuri's anger is exemplified by the fact that he's being compared to Victor because no one likes that. Yakov doesn't know what to do because Yuri is his first debut in a long time, since I'm going off the assumption that he mainly trains Victor, Mila, and Georgi.
> 
> For the scoring, I gave Yuri a couple more points, both because his step sequences and spins would have improved and because I saw that apparently JJ does super amazing on short programs and got mad. It doesn't actually give us scores for Skate Canada, but it looks like the skaters improved about 3 points per competition, so I just gave him his score from the other one minus three.


	15. I Just Recieved Your Message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Good morning to all of you who are awake, because for once I'm posting this not in the middle of the day!
> 
> Here's something I've been meaning to get off my chest: fanfic writers/readers despise first person, right? So I was planning on reading this book my friend recommended, and then I turned to page 1 and saw "I" scattered all over it and nearly traumatized myself. It was very strange to read from first-person again after so long. And there's also smut?? Why did no one tell me they were putting smut in physical books now? That was way too creepy to read in first person, so I dipped after that.
> 
> Today's episode is a bit special, so tell me if you like it. Enjoy!

**Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Congrats to our Yuri on an amazing free skate!! Here’s a link to his interview.

 **burn me alive @Kittie**  
Is that a stray Yuuri Katsuki I spot?? _@KatsukiFanclub_ come get your man.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Hey! My cousin, the owner of the KatsukiFanclub, linked me to this. That account’s Japanese, so I’ll be stepping in as their English rep. What’s going on?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Your Yuri is in our Yuri’s interview.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
*Yuuri. I didn’t know he was a fan of Yuri Plisetsky. 

**Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Sorry! Yeah, me neither. But listen to it.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
OMG!! They’re literally so cute together???

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
IKR!

 **Katsuki_FC@KatsukiEng**  
Also, did you see JJ’s interview? Here’s a link.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
i- WHAT A DICK.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Right?? Fr though, why does he have to be so rude? Yuri Plisetsky is amazing, and he should admit it.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Aww, thanks! We’ve decided we love Yuuri Katsuki too. And DID YOU SEE THEM ELBOW EACH OTHER!!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
AND YUURI WAS SITTING WITH FELTSMAN DURING YURI’S SHORT PROGRAM TOO.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Does this mean we’re friends now?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yes, we’re bffs now. <3<3<3

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
This is amazing. I don’t think Yuri’s ever had a figure skating friend before. He usually hates everyone else. COUGH COUGH VICTOR NIKIFOROV COUGH COUGH

 **Katsuki_FC KatsukiEng**  
I’m kinda surprised they became friends since Yuuri’s so shy. We can’t say anything about Victor, Yuuri’s too big of a fan.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Don’t worry, we’ll say it for you.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
This is why you’re our best friend.

\- - - -

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
_@KatsukiEng_ Quick question.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
What’s up?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Has Yuuri ever done a Quad Salchow before this season?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yes, but it’s not his strong suit. 

**Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Right, he’s good at step sequences and spins. Except, look at this post from Phichit.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
What. WHAT. WHY DID NO ONE TELL US HIS JUMPS WERE THIS GOOD?? _@yuuri_katsuki_ WHERE DID YOU PULL THIS FROM??

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Exactly! And it’s obviously not his coach (no offense), so where did he get this improvement from?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
And Yuri’s wicked good at jumps, especially the Quad Salchow…Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
YES. The only question is how?

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
We know.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Y’all hear something?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Do we hear nothing?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Yes.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Oh, okay! No, there’s nothing here but you and me.

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
Haha, very funny. Do you want to know or not?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Oh gracious living legend cult, please tell us.

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
Yuuri Katsuki was spotted in Russia a couple weeks ago. In St. Petersberg. Someone from our group mentioned it once, but we didn’t it was important, since, you know, it was Yuuri Katsuki.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Russia? St. Petersburg??

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
They totally met up. THEY TOTALLY MET UP.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
And that’s why Yuri’s step sequences got better too!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
And not because of Victor’s choreography! Genius!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
We all know that step sequence wasn’t his in the first place.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
For sure, there’s no way. It wasn’t his style at all. Way too elegant and flowy; it felt like dancing, which he does not do, like at all.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yuuri does ballet, that’s probably where it comes from!

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
Of course Victor didn’t do that; have you seen it? Easily the weakest part of his performance. No surprise it came from last year’s loser.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
...Excuse me?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
EXCUSE ME??

 **Katsuki_FC@KatsukiEng**  
We get this all the time. “How can you support such a bad skater?”

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
EXCUSE ME. YUURI KATSUKI IS THE BEST FIGURE SKATER IN JAPAN, AND HE HAS MORE MANNERS AND RESPECT IN HIS PINKY THAN YOU’LL EVER HAVE. NOT ONLY THAT, BUT HE SUPPORTS OTHER SKATERS. I DON’T SEE MISTER LIVING LEGEND HYPING UP HIS OWN TEAMMATES, LET ALONE ANYONE ELSE, WHILE YUURI IS OUT HERE HELPING YURI IMPROVE. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TALK BAD ABOUT HIM.

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
Still doesn’t disprove the fact that he sucks at jumps and screws up everything else half the time. Just watch his GPF free skate. And literally every competition after that.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
He didn’t do as well because his dog passed away, not because he’s a bad skater. He was trying to get through the free skate knowing that his dog died without having seen him for years.

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
So? Victor has a dog, and he still gets gold.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Are you hearing yourself right now? Victor trains in Russia, where he got his dog from. Yuuri trains in America, an ocean away from Japan. AND VICTOR’S DOG IS STILL ALIVE.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I didn’t expect this from Victor’s fans, given how Yuuri is one and he’s so sweet about it. When he was still a junior, he’d gush about Victor’s performances and post breakdowns of them so we could better understand and appreciate the work your idol does.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
He’s one of you, and this is how you treat him?

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
Not surprised Victor’s wannabe and Japan’s failure are sticking together.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Victor’s wannabe? Yuri Plisetsky is nothing like Victor Nikiforov. For one, his fans aren’t dicks. We can’t say anything bad about Victor on this account, so we’ll be moving over somewhere else.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Second, Victor may have technical skills, but sometimes watching him skate feels like watching a really good robot skate. It’s technically good, but there’s no genuine feeling to it. He’s so obsessed with surprising his demanding audience that he’s forgotten how to skate what he wants. Yuri, on the other hand, pours so much emotion into his skating. Did you see his agape performance? Totally not his style, and he pulled it off so well -Katsuki_FC

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
As a matter of fact, go watch both Yuri and Yuuri’s On Love performances. They’re both way out of their comfort zone and still manage to convey the meaning and tone of the piece.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Victor could never.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Who let you have access to that account? You do realize that as the “official fan club”, you represent Victor? Do you really want to be acting like this?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Leave us alone; we were literally minding our own business before you got here.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
And don’t come back unless you’ve gained some human decency.

\- - - -

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
_@Yuri_angels @KatsukiEng_ Hey! Terribly sorry about that whole predicament. It’s one of our mods, but we don’t know which one. We’re dealing with it right now, but they might be back. Once again, on behalf of the rest of the fan club, we apologize. -Head Mod

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Thanks for doing something about it!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I’m sure the rest of them are good people and all, but I really don’t trust the Victor FC anymore. Plus, they’ve said some shady stuff over the past couple of years.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yeah, it’s bound to happen with a fanbase as big as theirs. We can’t let this ruin Victor’s reputation though.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Yuuri has such a crush on him.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Tell me about it. Imagine if they start dating or something; the Victor FC would go wild.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Ugh, it’d be so controversial among them. Just let people date who they want to.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I don’t think Yuri would approve.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Definitely not right now with the way he glares at Victor. That man has gotta earn Yuri’s approval if he wants to get it on with Yuuri.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Honestly, who wouldn’t?

 **Handsome Romeo @I_Rank_Girls**  
Maybe Yuri’s jealous because he wants Yuuri. I’d like to see that.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Are- are you implying that you ship them?? Because that’s no good.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
That’s more than no good; that’s pedophilia.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Yuri and Yuuri are a lot of things.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Rivals.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Friends.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Psuedo-coaches, given the way they basically trained each other.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
But they are not lovers.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
No way.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Disgusting.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Get that shit off my feed.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
If anything, Yuri’s like an overprotective little brother.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yuuri would be such a mom friend who looks after everyone and gets looked after in return.

**Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Does that make Victor a homewrecker? 

**Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Definitely -Katsuki_FC

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
What a turn of events.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
We all knew this was going to end with Victor the homewrecker.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I can’t believe we’ve thought out this crack ship.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Yuuri’s too good for Victor anyway. Maybe JJ and Victor can prance off into the sunset together.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
What is JJ was the one behind the Victor FC account?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
...He would, wouldn’t he?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yup.

\- - - -

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Sorry, I just can’t get over the fact that Yuri is basically preening and glowing when Yuuri compliments him.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
He must not receive a lot of positive attention solely on him, with him having the same coach as Victor and all.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
For sure. We need to manifest him more support.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
@yuri-plisetsky We love your skating! Don’t listen to the crazy Victor/JJ fans!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Speaking of Yuri’s coach, I think Feltsman is in love with Yuuri. I mean, he let Yuuri sit with him, and they were talking to each other as well. I can kinda see why: he has to deal with people like Yuri and Georgi, which can’t easy. Yuuri must be a breath of fresh air.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yuuri’s really just wormed his way into Russia’s heart, hasn’t he? It’s nice to know he has more people to talk to! There aren’t really that many Japanese skaters in the international field. There is this one skater, though he isn’t international just yet.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Oh? Who is it?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Minami Kenjirou. He won last season’s Regionals and placed second this year.

 **Minaminaminami @MinamiFansUnited**  
OMG, HI YUURI’S ENGLISH FANCLUB!! CAN WE BE FRIENDS PLEASE?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Back away. _@KatsukiEng_ , I think its feral.

 **Minaminaminami @MinamiFansUnite**  
Hi Yuri’s Angels! We can be friends too since you and Yuuri’s FC are close.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Hey! We can be friends, but not best friends because that’s reserved for _@Yuri_angels_!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
As it should be.

 **Minaminaminami @MinamiFansUnite**  
That’s fine! We have two new friends now!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
_@Yuri_angels_ , do you know any Russian skaters Yuri at least tolerates?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Literally no one. If he could, he'd probably disowns them. Ever wonder why we’re followed by none of the big skater fan clubs?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
We should find you more skater friends.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
If they want to be our friend, they’ve got to like y’all as well.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Obviously. We’re a package deal. No one too chipper, I don’t think Yuuri or Yuri could handle that.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Someone older than Yuri too, since most skaters his age are still in the junior bracket or act like it. Yuri’s honestly mature for his age, grumpy attitude aside.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Right? When I was 15 I was putting off schoolwork and obsessing over Modern Warfare and nail polish.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Same, except replace nail polish with croissants.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Why croissants?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I don’t even know at this point, but there are tens of croissant recipes that are still ingrained in my head. At least they taste pretty good!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I love croissants.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Will you be going to the Rostlecom Cup?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yup, it manages to overlap with a break I have that month!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Good! I’ll make some for you, and then you can taste the only good outcome my croissant phase left on me.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
You’re going too?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Yeah, since I couldn’t go to this one. I’m glad though because that means I get to see Yuri and Yuuri skate live! And we can eat croissants together.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I want pastries so badly now. Brb, gonna go to a bakery real quick.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Have fun! What were we talking about before our croissant tangent?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Oh, skater friends! There are a couple of skaters who are more toned down. Seung-gil Lee, for one.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Have you heard of Otabek Atlin?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Atlin? No, I don’t think so. Let me search them up.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Otabek Atlin as in the skater for Khazahkstan?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
That’s the one! Doesn’t he look so serious?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
He’d tell you to get off his lawn as an elder.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
It’s those darn kids.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Oooh, Atlin’s in this year’s GP circuit.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
He’s not in any of their qualifiers, but they might be able to meet if he makes it to the finals.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
They’ll either become friends really quickly or hate each other from the bottom of their hearts.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Definitely. Here’s to hoping Atlin isn’t just another JJ with a serious face.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I might cry if he is.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
What time is it where you are? Because it’s basically twelve for me, and I have an early shift tomorrow.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Um, like 12:53 am.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
IT'S ALMOST ONE?? Go to sleep. 

**Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Wait a minute, DID YOU GO OUT AND BUY PASTRIES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT??

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
To be fair, you made me hungry.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Go to bed.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Will you be watching the free skates?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Of course. Good luck to _@yuri-plisetsky_ in tomorrow’s competition!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Good luck! We’ll be cheering for you!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
And goodnight _@Yuri_angels_!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Night! Talk after the freeskates?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
What else would we do? Watch Victor’s interview?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Ugh.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Ugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! A bit different from our usual style, don't you think? I've wanted a social media chapter for the longest time. And yes, this all between Skate Canada's short program and free skate, because the internet does not know time.
> 
> @KatsukiEng comes from the fact that most of Yuuri's fanbase is Japanese, so I'm assuming the main fan account would be as well. The same goes for Minami, that's why they aren't @MinamiFanclub or something.
> 
> It was actually 12:53 am as I was writing that part because my sleep schedule is completely ruined from last week's everything.
> 
> When they use "we/our" they're referring to the group as a whole, but when they use "I/my", it's them as a person and not the embodiment of the fans if that makes sense. I haven't really thought about them, but @PlisetskyFanclub (now @Yuri_angels) is the oldest out of everyone there because I thought that'd be funny.


	16. Love and Dreams Can Turn Magical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First, he points to Victor, who was bouncing up and down in his seat. “He doesn’t mind. In fact, he doesn’t mind _a bit too much._ ”
> 
> Victor makes a face at him, to which Yuri responds by doing the same.
> 
> Next, he gestures to Yakov, who looks like he’s on the verge of hitting Victor over the head yet again. “Yakov might cry if you don’t go. Plus, he actually likes you, which is more than what I can say for Victor.”
> 
> “You love me, don’t you Yakov?”
> 
> “Absolutely not. You are the main cause of my stress.”
> 
> “And I hate them all and like it when you help me,” Yuri concludes, staring up at Yuuri with pleading eyes. “Can you really leave me alone in good conscience? Just look at them.”
> 
> “Yura, Coach Yakov has been training you since you were six, and you’ve trained on the same ice as Victor for almost as long.”
> 
> “That doesn’t mean I have to like them.”
> 
> “We love you too, Yura!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I can't think of anything to say, my brain's kinda been fried by school. Speaking of, that lets out in a couple of weeks, meaning I'll probably have time to go back and edit the previous chapters, so look forward to that. In the meantime, enjoy!
> 
> Edit: I suddenly thought of what to say as I was writing the end notes. The movie trailer?? 10/10 absolute perfection. The lighting, the details on the ice, THE COSTUME?? Can we talk about how immaculate that costume (and the random bird that flew through) was? Oh, and Victor was there too I guess. If you've rejoined the YOI community because of the trailer, welcome!
> 
> Also, I was looking at YOI art to remind me of how these guys looked, and I find it fascinating that Yuri is put at the same level as Victor and Yuuri. Not that it's a bad thing, it's actually really amazing they're treated as equals, but I feel like it makes people forget that he's so much younger than them. I will literally tell this to anyone, Yuri is a child, and that needs to be taken into accord when thinking about the way he thinks and acts. To be fair, he's almost a young adult and very mature, but still, this guy barely qualifies for Seniors (according to ISU guidelines, he could have stayed till he was almost 19, but _no_ , Mister Quad-Salchow-At-Twelve decided he was too good for all the idiot juniors).
> 
> Not edited.

Yuuri takes a seat next to Yuri, who bumps shoulders with him as if looking for silent reassurance. Yuuri nudges back, letting himself linger for a few seconds.

On Yuri’s left side, Victor watches them with rapt attention. He shoots Yuuri a blinding grin when they make eye contact. “I know you and Yura went out, but did you manage to catch the beginning of my short program?”

Sheepishly, Yuuri shakes his head. “I’m sure it was great though! And I’ll be sure to watch it later.”

“Oh.” Victor wilts, slowly sliding his eyes back up to the screen as he silently pouts. Yuuri can’t help but feel bad, even if he did find Victor’s brooding expression endearing.

Yuri rolls his eyes, shifting to face Yuuri. “I told you he was an idiot. If you don’t give him enough attention, he gets like _that_ , just like a dog. This is why I prefer Potya.”

Yakov frowns at Victor’s sulking, rolling up a pamphlet detailing Skate Canada in order to hit the silver-haired skater on the head. “You better not be acting like this during practice!”

Victor’s eyes light up, and he turns to Yakov, grasping his shoulders. “Practice! Yakov, you’re a genius!”

“Huh. This might be the first time I’ve seen you excited about practice during a competition,” Yakov murmurs, shaking Victor off before swatting at him once more. Victor pays no heed, instead turning to face Yuuri and Yuri, who makes a face at him.

“Yuuri!”

“Huh?” Yuuri replies, not taking his attention off the screen as the next skater steps onto the ice. Nekola hadn’t managed to score above Yuri, leaving the blonde in third place. 

“Will you be coming with us to practice?” Victor asks, leaning forward so he could see past Yuri and smile at Yuuri.

“Well, I was planning on just renting a rink for a couple of hours.”

Yuri snaps to attention at that. “What? Why?”

“I didn’t want to bother you all.” Yuuri shrugs.

Yuri scoffs. “Trust me, you would be doing us a favor.”

He tugs on Yuuri’s jacket to guide his attention to Yuri’s hand. First, he points to Victor, who was bouncing up and down in his seat. “He doesn’t mind. In fact, he doesn’t mind _a bit too much._ ”

Victor makes a face at him, to which Yuri responds by doing the same.

Next, he gestures to Yakov, who looks like he’s on the verge of hitting Victor over the head yet again. “Yakov might cry if you don’t go. Plus, he actually likes you, which is more than what I can say for Victor.”

“You love me, don’t you Yakov?”

“Absolutely not. You are the main cause of my stress.”

“And I hate them all and like it when you help me,” Yuri concludes, staring up at Yuuri with pleading eyes. “Can you really leave me alone in good conscience? Just look at them.”

“Yura, Coach Yakov has been training you since you were six, and you’ve trained on the same ice as Victor for almost as long.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like them.”

“We love you too, Yura!”

Yuuri lets out an amused laugh, reaching out to gently tug a strand of Yuri’s hair in order to get him to stop scowling at the other two Russians in the room. “Alright, I’ll come to practice with you.”

Yuri nods in satisfaction, shooting a smug smile at Victor, who turns his head away in indignation. Yakov sighs, rubbing the sides of his temple in an exhausted manner. “Stop picking on each other.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Yura, I saw what happened with my own two eyes.”

“So? You’re basically blind.”

“Yura, don’t be mean!” Victor says. “Yakov may be balding, but he’s not blind.”

Yakov’s eye twitches and he tightens his grip on the rolled-up pamphlet, waving it around in the air. “Suicides, Vitya!”

“Hey! What about Yura?”

“Yura didn’t decide to cut into a conversation just to add a level of insult.”

“No, but he would!”

“I would not! Stop trying to project your bad attitude onto me!”

“Oh, _I’m_ the one with the bad attitude?”

Yakov’s face darkens, and he turns to Yuuri with an exhausted, resigned look in his eyes. “Come on Katsuki, I’ll take you to the rink we rented.”

“What about the two of them?”

“They can find their way there by themselves. Let’s see if Cialdini has properly trained you.”

\- - - -

The rink, though not as big as the one at Yuuri’s home rink nor Yakov’s, was more than enough for their party of four, even if Yuuri planned on skating. Which, it seemed like he would, given how Yakov brought them back to the hotel so Yuuri could grab his skates.

Once they check-in and gain access to the rink, Yakov stands right behind the barrier, sipping from his cup as he watches Yuuri scroll through his phone for this music. 

“What’s your short program called?” Yakov asks.

“On Love: Eros.”

Yakov nods, processing the information given. Suddenly, his face morphs into an exasperated look, and Yuuri shrinks back, holding up his hands in a mock sign of surrender. 

“Coach? Is everything alright?”

“Has Vitya seen this yet?”

Yuuri draws his brows together, feeling puzzled. “Victor? Not unless he was at my Regionals. Why?”

“Just...go skate your program.”

Hesitantly, Yuuri glides towards to center of the ice. The music starts up, and Yuuri tries his best to throw himself into the choreography, ignoring the fact that he’s skating for Yakov Feltsman who only accepts only the best and has trained gold medalists that Yuuri can only hope to be half as good as.

Briefly, he wonders why Yakov wants him to skate. Perhaps it was so he could make sure Yuuri wouldn’t be competition for his skaters? But if that were the case, he could watch Yuuri’s Regionals performance, or even one of the many recordings he sends to Yuri.

He ends up stumbling at the very end, too lost in a jumble of worries and thoughts. Yuuri’s face shows his shame: his eyes burn with unshed tears, his nose stings from the inside out, and his ears are warm and red despite the cold. 

As he moves into his final pose, Yuuri is panting even though he had run through this program hundreds of times before. He bows his head in shame, refusing to make eye contact with Yakov.

He was expecting harsh barks, as Yuri so often received, or sighs of disappointment, similar to what he got from Celestino. Yuuri tenses his shoulders, expecting the worse. What he wasn’t expecting was the smattering of claps coming from the bleachers.

“Coach?”

“Not bad, Katsuki. You get nerves?” 

It was more a statement than a question, and Yuuri nods in response, grimacing. He peeks up at Yakov, who doesn’t look as upset as he had expected. Rather, he looks to be contemplating something.

“Your jumps were better than I expected, especially your Salchow. Yura’s doing, I’m assuming?”

Yuuri all but crumbles to the floor in relief.

“Pretty much.” he shrugs, more relaxed now that it didn’t seem like he was going to get yelled out. “He refused to get off the ice until I did one he deemed acceptable.”

“It shows. Your transition from the spread eagle to the Triple Axel could be smoother; try shifting your weight to your left leg earlier. Run your step sequence again.”

Yuuri complies, feeling less on edge. He knew how to do step sequences, and if not, he could improvise. This would be fine.

Without music, all he has to listen to is the scraping sounds made as his blades skim across the ice, leaving a trail of flying, translucent particles behind him.

He stops himself before he can hit the edge, looking at Yakov for his comments.

“...I knew it was too good to be true.” Yakov sighs, sliding his hat down to cover the top half of his face, effectively hiding his expression from Yuuri.

“Oh, I’m sorry Coach! I’ll work harder next time!”

Yakov shifts his hat away from his face, squinting at Yuuri. “No, not you. You’re fine. I thought since Vitya had become... _enamored_ with dance, for lack of a better word, he would finally start properly focusing during Lilia’s ballet lessons and learn a thing or two. Then I saw Yura’s choreography and was pleasantly surprised. Turns out, he’s still an idiot.”

“Who’s an idiot?”

Victor and Yuri pop up from the doorway, each having changed out of their costumes and dressed in more casual wear.

“You, probably.” Yuri retorts, hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that he quickly shakes out. He walks up to Yuuri and holds out the hair tie, and Yuuri takes with it without a word, grasping Yuri’s shoulders to turn him around.

“Why’s your hair so tangled?” Yuuri asks, wincing as his fingers get caught through Yuri’s strands yet again. “It’s usually brushed out by the time you get to practice.”

“He kept rushing me,” Yuri explains, pointing at Victor. “He was scared Yakov would eat you or something.”

“Vitya!” Yakov barks, and Victor, who was sitting on the bleachers lacing up his skates, lets out a yelp in surprise.

“What? It’s true; you eat skaters for breakfast! Why else do you think you only have four skaters?”

“Because all of you are problematic and a headache to handle!”

“I think Coach Yakov’s pretty nice,” Yuuri says, tying back half of Yuri’s hair now that he’s able to run his fingers through it without pulling on the teen’s scalp. “He pointed out the spread eagle problem we never figured out.”

“That’s because he’s the worst during the kiss and cry; he goes on and on,” Yuri grumbles. “It’s infected Victor too. Once, during a junior competition, Yakov was busy so the Old Man took me instead, and he would not shut up at the kiss and cry. It was exhausting.”

“I’m sure he was just happy for you?”

“If that includes talking about how my jumps should be higher nonstop then yeah, pretty happy for me. I still got first though, so jokes on him.”

“Of course.” Yuuri twists the last loop and slides it through, securely pulling Yuri’s hair into a half-up half-down hairstyle. “Go lace up; I’m sure Coach Yakov is dying to have you run through your free skate.”

“For goodness’ sake, go do those suicides I ordered!”

“Help! I’m being attacked!”

“It’s not like this is your first time!”

“Look at me! Don’t you pity me?”

“Suicides right now, Vitya, or I’ll double it!”

“I’m going, I’m going!”

“I think he’s more concerned with Victor right now,” Yuri says, shrugging off his hoodie.

Yuuri eyes the other two Russians as they start shouting at each other, with Yakov standing on one side of the rink as Victor skates back and forth, stopping to complain every time he reaches Yakov. “What gave it away?”

\- - - -

Once that got resolved, or rather put on hold as Yakov leaves to take a phone call, Yuri steps onto the ice, joining Yuuri in a corner as Victor does a couple of impromptu spins.

“Yuuri!” he calls out, waving to the two of them. “Do you want to watch my short program? You can critique it!”

“Me?” Yuuri asks, gesturing to himself. Victor rapidly nods, and Yuuri gives him a nervous smile. “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

Victor’s eyes brighten, and he fumbles around for his phone, fingers flying across the screen. Yuuri watches on in fascination as Victor successfully connects to the rink’s speakers and soft guitar strings spill out.

“It’s amazing how passionate he is about his programs,” Yuuri remarks.

“Yeah, his program is the reason why he’s tripping over himself to skate,” Yuri grumbles. “The songs called _Bouge Avec Moi_ by the way, since I know you’re going to go looking for it after practice.”

“It’s very romantic.”

“Mhm, he burst into Yakov’s office one day claiming he had found a theme for this season. I don’t know exactly what it is, but his free skate’s sappy too.”

“Is that why you got Agape?”

Yuri stills, lost in thought as though he had never made the connection before. Suddenly, his face twists and he glowers at Victor, who is blissfully ignorant of the dark aura emitting from Yuri.

“I’m going to slice him,” he growls, managing to pick up his feet and stomp over. However, before he could reach Victor, Yuuri holds out an arm, blocking Yuri’s movement.

“Let him finish his short program.”

“Do you like it that much?”

Yuuri shoots Yuri a look, and the teen sighs, nodding in resignment. “Right, stupid question.”

Yuuri hums in agreement, turning his attention back to Victor, who was in the middle of his step sequence. At the back of his head is a small voice pointing out small flaws, and he tucks away its comments for later. Mostly though, he’s captivated by the way Victor glides along effortlessly, as if the air was simply guiding him around.

Then Victor does his signature Quad Flip, and it feels as if Yuuri’s soul is flying alongside him. He’s only ever seen Victor skate live once, at the very start of his career when he was around eleven and Yuuri was seven. Back then, the most he could do were doubles and the occasional triple, but it seemed as if he were soaring through the air to Yuuri.

Now, watching as Victor lands a Quad Toe-Triple Toe combination, Yuuri feels like a child again, discovering the beauty that was figure skating for the first time.

Then Victor comes to a stop along with the music. Except, unlike the gracefully fading strings of the guitar, Victor trips on an undone lace and falls to the ice. The illusion is shattered, and suddenly Yuuri is reminded of just how human Victor is, even as the Living Legend. In fact, he’s starting to prefer this version of Victor Nikiforov. 

Nevertheless, the silver-haired skater picks himself up and skates over to them, wrapping his hands around Yuuri’s and bringing it in between their chests. “Did you like it?”

Yuuri nods. “I loved it!”

Victor beams. “Yura said it was too lovey-dovey—”

“Because it is! And we need to have a discussion about where Agape came from!”

“—but I’m glad you like it!”

“Katsudon has some issues with it though,” Yuri says, much to Victor’s dismay.

“You don’t know that!” he protests.

Yuri’s grin is full of glee and mischief. “Actually, I do. Katsudon gets this look in his eyes whenever he’s in what I like to call _‘Picky Coach Mode’._ ”

“Oh, critique! I thought you meant it as in he didn’t like the choreography. You scared me, Yura!”

“That was the point.”

Victor ignores Yuri, pushing on. “Well, why don’t you tell what’s on your mind?”

Yuuri nervously laughs. “It’s kind of embarrassing to say. And my opinion doesn’t really matter, you might want Coach Yakov to do it instead.”

“Yakov’s sick of it.”

“He’s only sick of it because of what you say when you practice it.” Yuri shoots back, crossing his arms.

Victor sticks his tongue out at him before turning back to Yuuri. “A fresh pair of eyes is always helpful!”

“Alright, if you say so…”

Yuuri hesitantly lists off what he noticed, starting from step sequences he was confident in to meekly point out improvements for jumps.

Victor listens attentively, nodding along to what Yuuri said. When Yuuri finishes, he smiles. “Thank you for the suggestions! I’m happy you payed close attention to me.”

“Victor Nikiforov, are you roleplaying again?” Yakov’s voice bellows from the hallway as it gets louder and louder. “I keep telling you, this is not going to help you win—”

He storms into the room, blinking in shock at the sight of Yuuri and Victor’s linked hand. From behind Yuuri, Yuri is silently shaking with laughter, flipping Victor off when he glares at him.

“Yakov,” Victor whines. “You’re embarrassing me!”

“You embarrass yourself. Katsuki, you aren’t being forced into anything, are you?”

When Yuuri shakes his head, Yakov sighs. “Alright. Vitya, Yura, your free skates. Katsuki, can you watch Yura’s for me?”

“Sure!”

“What? But I want Yuuri to watch mine too!”

“He’ll see it tomorrow; besides, Katsuki can correct Yura if he messes up.” Yakov points out.

“Yeah, because he actually knows my program, which is more than I can say for you,” Yuri says as he leads Yuuri away to the left side of the rink, not turning back to watch Victor pout and flounce off to the other side.

Yakov groans, reluctantly following Victor. “Who did I kill in my last life to deserve this? Did that cult of red people curse me because I stole their bananas once?”

“But aren’t we a blessing?”

“ _Anything but._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Reading through it, I've realized that nothing much really happens in this chapter, which is funny because it's one of my longer ones.
> 
> I don't actually know if Yuri started at 6, because it doesn't say, but competitive athletes generally start young (which isn't to say you can't compete if you start later; multiple gold medalists have started at around twelve), and Yuri is kind of obsessed so yeah, skates at six.
> 
> So according to the YOI Wiki, Lilia ties Yuri's hair for his free skate. If that matters to you in any way, I'm giving you a heads up right now: I'm changing that. The person who's going to do it instead should be obvious, and if not having Lilia there really bothers you please let me know!
> 
> Victor coaches like Yakov coaches in canon, but I've decided to take a little artistic liberty since Yakov literally did not know Yuuri when he substituted for Victor. This Yakov has probably heard a million things about him from Yuri and has actually met him, so he shifted his style of coaching. Btw, when writing the scene where he shuffles around his hat, I used a paper plate as a substitute to act out what he was doing. It wasn't even a plate used for plating things; I used the back of it to write out the unit circle.
> 
> Originally, Yuuri was going to moon after Victor some more, but I wasn't feeling it and turned it to a more light-hearted side (as I so often do). Plus, I was missing Yuri! Mooning after Victor honestly might have been the hardest part to write, and it took forvever. Tbh writing about or in the perspective of Victor, in general, is difficult for me, hence why he's not a main main character.


	17. The Flame That Burns In One's Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re the one responsible for keeping your eyes to yourself. Which, might I add, you have been doing a terrible job of.”
> 
> “I’m in love, Yakov.”
> 
> “You’re going to be dead if you don’t place tomorrow.”
> 
> “I’d gladly die being choked by Yuuri.”
> 
> “ _Okay_ , I’ve had enough of you. Katsuki, Yura, it’s time for dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning/evening! So, as it turns out, sleep deprivation can lead to insomnia. Go figure. Hopefully, I can get it fixed after the mess that is the upcoming weeks, but for now please reap the benefits. Speaking of, there may not be an update next week. People always tell you to beware of finals week, but never the week before when teachers are trying to test and prepare you with ridiculously long reviews (my math review is 93 questions; I can't even count that high). If I end up procrastinating, you'll get an update next week. If not, double update the week after. Good luck to those who are prepping for their own midterms as well!
> 
> Can you believe some of my longest chapters are just filler? It's ridiculous. I wanted to add in scenes not related to the competition because that would be way too bland, but I didn't expect them to be so long. I mean, if you're reading this for the plot progress you've probably clicked on the wrong work, so hopefully, the rest of you still enjoy this. Btw, if this chapter isn't as amusing as the previous ones, blame the terrible sense of humor I develop after 2 am.
> 
> Something important: A character says something that I don't necessarily agree with and will be clarifying in the end notes. It's nothing triggering, but it's important I make myself clear. It'll be the very first paragraph, so you can read it and ignore everything else I ramble about.
> 
> Not edited.

“What did I just watch?”

“My free skate?”

“No, I watched a demon crack your neck and do your free skate. What have you been looking at this entire ti— it’s Katsuki, isn’t it?”

“Look at his hands, Yakov! His fingers are so long and gracious and I want them wrapped around me so bad.”

“Vitya, _please_.”

“He’s so distracting.”

“You’re the one responsible for keeping your eyes to yourself. Which, might I add, you have been doing a terrible job of.”

“I’m in love, Yakov.”

“You’re going to be dead if you don’t place tomorrow.”

“I’d gladly die being choked by Yuuri.”

“ _Okay_ , I’ve had enough of you. Katsuki, Yura, it’s time for dinner.”

The aforementioned skaters turn to face them after being called, Yuri scowling once he sees Victor’s expression. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Forget him. What do you two want to eat?”

Yuuri hums in consideration, glancing over at Yuri. “What are you feeling?”

“Mediterranean?”

“I like Mediterranean.”

“I know you do.”

Yakov nods. “Mediterranean it is. There should be a place nearby that serves it. I’ll look into it while you three get ready.”

“Thank you!” Yuuri says, smiling at him. The Russian coach is silent for a moment, giving Yuuri an almost shocked look before huffing.

“Cialdini is lucky to have you. He must treat you well.”

“Please,” Yuri scoffs. “That guy does nothing for him. If anything, I’m more Katsudon’s coach than he is.”

“Yura!” Yakov scolds, looking disgruntled. “Cialdini is a highly respected coach in the figure skating community.”

“Yeah, but his medalists are mostly in ice dance, not singles. You should send Georgi to him; he keeps talking about joining ice dance to win back his ex.”

Yakov sighs. “Georgi will get over it. Besides, who would he even partner with?”

“Mila agreed!” Victor replies, stepping off the ice to sit down on the bleachers and unlace his skates. “She said it would be fun, and it would cause you to lose more hair.”

Yakov rolls his eyes, pulling out his phone. “Of course she did. Did Georgi get riled up even more?”

“Of course!”

Yuuri leans over to Yuri, murmuring quietly. “Your rink mates seem very…”

“Annoying? Obnoxious? A pain to deal with?”

“I was going to say hyper.”

“Don’t try to sugarcoat it. You’ve seen Georgi’s performances.” Yuri waves his hands around, doing a crude imitation of Georgi’s short program last season. “Imagine how much worse he is off ice.”

Yuuri gets off the ice before Yuri, and so he hands him his blade guards while grabbing his own. “He can’t be that bad.”

“He is, especially when Anya is involved.” Yuri sits down next to Yuuri, tugging loose his skates before wiping the blades dry and sliding on soakers, storing them in his bag. “And Anya is somehow _always_ involved.”

He picks up his bag and slings it over his shoulder, holding out a hand for Yuuri. “Do we have to eat with Yakov and Victor?”

Yuuri pulls himself up, holding his skates with his other hand. “What’s wrong with Yakov and Victor? Plus, where else would we go?”

“McDonald's?”

“You are not having fast food the night before your free skate, Yura!” Yakov barks. “If I see a single fry I’ll make you short sprint across the rink twenty times!”

“See?”

“You don’t even like McDonald's.” Yuuri points out. “Stop teasing your poor coach.”

“Serves him right for being so uptight,” Yuri grumbles. “Are we leaving or not? I’m starving, and I will not hesitate to sell Victor off for dinner.”

“Why me?”

“You know exactly why.”

They end up dropping off their bags at the hotel and heading towards a semi-casual restaurant just a short walk away. The waitress cheerfully greets them and seats them at a booth in the corner of the building, away from other customers.

“Yuuri, come sit next to me!” Victor says, waving him over.

Yuuri chokes on the breath he was about to take, rapidly nodding while hacking out a cough. Before he moves, he catches the end of Yuri’s sleeve and gently tugs. The blonde accedes, sliding in to sit on Yuuri’s other side.

Yakov glances at the three of them, cramped up on one side, then at the empty space surrounding him, and sighs, massaging his temples. The waitress comes back with four menus, raising an eyebrow at their unbalanced seating system. When she turns to Yakov, assuming him to be the one with answers, he just shrugs.

Although she most likely finds them strange, the waitress doesn't say anything, instead passing out the menus with a polite smile. “What can I get you all to drink?”

“Water.”

“Just water, please!”

“Do you have ice water?”

She nods, scribbling it down. Victor looks over at Yuuri with a curious expression, who shoots him a half-grimace half-smile, slightly leaning closer to Yuri. “Just something I picked up in America.”

“How long did you live in America for?”

“Around four or five years. I went for college, and then stayed because Celestino’s rink was in Detroit.”

“Really? Tell me about your time there! Do you have any fun university stories?”

Hesitantly, Yuuri starts talking about his time at school, telling both Victor and Yuri, who had tuned into the conversation when he heard Yuuri speak of college, interesting anecdotes from when he was younger.

Victor listens attentively, nodding and asking questions. At the same time, he rests a side of his face on his hand, eyes wandering down from Yuuri’s eyes to his lips before quickly shooting back up again, though not before Yuri catches him and proceeds to fake gag.

“Sir?” the waitress asks, turning to Yakov. “What can I get for you?”

“What’s the fizziest drink you have?”

“Well, we serve extra-carbonated soda.”

“I’ll take a glass of that, thanks.”

“Alright! I’ll be back with your drinks soon.”

“What’s with the soda?” Yuri asks Yakov, who goes back to rubbing the sides of his head once the waitress leaves.

“Lilia keeps harping me about drinking less, and how alcohol is bad for my health. But I need something to get me through this, and I’d rather focus on how my throat feels like it’s being stabbed by tiny needles then whatever mess you guys are going to get into, especially _him_ ,” Yakov grunts as he gestures towards Victor. “It’s going to be a long night.”

Yuri opens his mouth, but Yakov beats him to speaking once more. “No, you can’t get one.”

The blonde huffs, crossing his arms. Before he can reply, though, he gets interrupted once more, this time by Victor laughing, beaming at a bright-red Yuuri. He leans into Yuuri, eyes flickering down to his mouth once more.

Yuri looks back at Yakov, who lets out a defeated sigh, picking up his menu in order to hide his face. “Maybe a small cup.”

He skims through the booklet, trying his best to ignore whatever was happening in front of him. Yuri rolls his eyes before opening his own menu, flipping through it with mild interest. Yuuri takes notice and turns his attention to him. “See anything good?”

“Not really.”

“What about that?” Yuuri points to an image at the corner of the page that shows two fillets of fish with servings of legumes and other vegetables. “It looks like a lot though.”

“We can share.” Yuri decides, looking at the Japanese skater for confirmation.

Immediately, Yuuri nods. “Sure!”

From his other side, Victor pouts, craning his neck in order to look at Yuri’s menu as well. “I didn’t know you liked swordfish, Yura.”

“Yeah, well you thought Mila had an orange allergy until last month.”

“Orange allergy?” Yuuri questions.

Victor slides down into his side of the seat, sulking. “It’s a perfectly valid allergy to have.”

“Do you know how rare it is? Plus, Mila has brought giant bags of citrus to practice multiple times.” 

“Her grandmother has fruit trees,” Yuri explains to Yuuri, who lets out a hum in understanding.

“I’ve never seen her eat one before!”

Yakov decides to finally pipe up after listening to their conversation. “Vitya, she literally brings a bottle of orange juice to practice _everyday_.”

Unable to help himself, Yuuri starts laughing quietly, covering his mouth in a failed attempt to silence himself when Victor looks at him helplessly. “Yuuri!”

“I’m sorry! It’s just kind of ridiculous!”

“I--” Victor trails off, watching as Yuuri’s face lights up with amusement and his lips pull up into a smile. “Well, I suppose it is a bit ridiculous. I’ve learned my lesson though!”

“Uh-huh, if that’s what you call Georgi’s ‘shellfish allergy’, then sure.”

“Yura!”

“But I’ve seen him eat shellfish at banquets before?”

“Exactly.”

Ten minutes later, Yuri is still in the process of telling Yuuri anything embarrassing he can think of about Victor. Yakov occasionally adds a comment, causing Victor to turn his whining towards him.

This is how the waitress finds them when she returns. She sets down their drinks and straightens back up, twirling her pen between her fingers. “Alright! Ready to order?”

The two Russian skaters turn to Yakov, looking at him expectantly. Between them, Yuuri is looking at Yuri and Victor back and forth, confused.

Yakov gives them an unimpressed stare back. “One of you is a grown adult, and the other is brash enough to order by himself.”

“But Yakov!”

“But nothing, Vitya. You barely listen when I coach you, so why would you need me to order for you?”

“Is this your way of petty revenge? Is it because I made fun of you when you wore a toupee to practice once?”

Yakov’s eye twitches, and he gestures to the waitress, pointing out two items on his menu. “A bowl of Koshari and the grilled swordfish combo, please. And whatever the gray-haired one is having.”

Victor makes a quick face at him before giving the waitress a charming smile. She flushes and almost drops her notepad, clearing her throat as she tries to straighten herself. “And you, sir?”

“I’ll have the seafood paella.”

Hastily, she nods, her hand flying across the page to write their order. Yuuri stacks their menus together and hands it to her as she nods to him in thanks and walks away.

Yuri leans into Yuuri’s side, pointing at the waitress’ back. “Every time we go out something like that happens. We occasionally get good discounts though, so sometimes it’s worth sitting through.”

“He reminds me of Yukko,” Yuuri says, pressing back against the blonde’s shoulder. “Half of our class liked her. She’d be getting nonstop confessions at the end of each week.”

“Really? What did her husband do?”

“Takashi mostly just glared at them from a distance and complained to me. Though, it did make me good at spotting crushes. Phichit dragged me around campus a couple of times asking me to point out potential couples. I was right about 90% of the time, even if he didn’t always believe me.”

“Then, does anyone like you?”

Victor’s head snaps up, and he’s quick to join their conversation. “Yes, I’m sure someone as lovely as you has had plenty of admirers before!”

Yuuri shakes his head, laughing at Victor’s statement. “I’m not that good at guessing when I’m involved, but I’d say no.”

“That’s just because everyone has bad taste,” Yuri grumbles, huffing softly when Yuuri reaches up and tousles his hair.

“You flatter me. I’m constantly surrounded by more exciting people, so I’m just not as noticeable.”

“That’s not true!” Victor protests. “You’re kind, and you’re skating is beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you!”

“Oh, well, thank you!” Yuuri’s face is flushed pink, and he has a bashful smile on his face. “I think you’re amazing as well.”

Victor beams, placing a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, who startles but eventually relaxes, though not without shifting his other side to face Yuri. “I’m just telling the truth.”

Yuri fleetingly brushes his hand over Yuuri’s arm, a silent show of support. “I hate to agree with him, so I’m going to choose to not comment.”

“You never agree with me!”

“And I’m certainly not going to start now.”

“I choreographed your short program!”

“That sappy piece of shit? It feels like you thought of it after last year’s banquet half-drunk.”

“...”

“I can’t believe you. Are you trying to sabotage me?”

“I was inspired!”

Yakov silently groans, picking up his cup and throwing his head back before taking a swig. He winces as the liquid hits the back of his throat, then watches Victor and Yuri bicker and decides to drink once more.

\- - - -

The food arrives, warm and a stark contrast to the cold winds blowing outside. Yuuri and Yuri situate the plate between them, eating from their separate sides. Yuri tries to push his beans to Yuuri’s side, to which the Japanese skater responds by shoveling them back onto his side.

Victor’s meal, a rice dish with shrimp and lobster, is devoured by said skater. Yuuri takes notice, glancing over at his half-empty plate. “It reminds me of a dish from back home.”

“Which one?”

“Um, I believe they should be called pork cutlet bowls in English?”

“Are you talking about katsudon?”

Yuuri’s eyes light up, and he sets down his spoon to face Victor, who straightens up, enjoying being the sole focus of Yuuri’s attention. “Yes! I suppose it would more resemble fried rice, but I grew up eating katsudon. You’re familiar with the dish?”

“I took a cooking class a couple of months ago! They taught us how to make different dishes with pork. Katsudon was my favorite!”

Yakov locks eyes with Yuri, who is trying to sneak his peas onto Yuuri’s side while he is preoccupied. “ _That’s_ why he was obsessed with taking all those classes?”

Yuri bobs his head, quickly snatching back his fork once Yuuri turns around. He tries his best to look innocent, though the unbalanced pile of legumes on one side is a dead giveaway.

“What am I going to do with you?” Yuuri sighs fondly, tapping Yuri’s utensil with his own.

“Eat my beans for me?”

“They’re a good source of protein, which you’ll need for tomorrow.” Yuuri reminds. “Surely Coach Yakov’s taught you that.”

Yuri scrunches up his face. “They’re mushy. No protein should be mushy.”

“A compromise, then. I’ll take your beans if you eat my lentils.”

Mollified, Yuri goes back to picking at his own food, occasionally picking up a spoonful of lentils to shove in his mouth.

Dinner after that is peaceful, with Yuuri and Yuri finishing off their meal before the others and conversing amongst themselves while they wait. Yakov is the next to empty his plate, taking increasingly large sips of his drink as Yuri berates Victor for being the slowest.

They end up leaving the restaurant at around 11, stepping out into the icy air. Yuuri shivers, sticking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The others don’t seem as affected, though Yuri tugs on an end of Yuuri’s scarf.

“Katsudon, wrap it up properly.”

Yuuri lets out a huff of amusement, his breath condensing into a misty cloud in front of him. He crosses over the ends of his scarf, forming a knot before tucking it underneath the rest of the red fabric. “See? Now I won’t freeze.”

“That’s what you think,” Yuri murmurs, but he’s silent for the rest of the walk back. Yakov, as usual, leads them and is the first one to reach his door. He grasps the handle, but before he enters decides to lecture them.

“I heard one of you going around talking about losing children. I’m going to comfortably assume that the aforementioned child was Yura, and therefore it was Vitya’s fault. Vitya, if you wake me up at 7 again, living legend or not, I will send you to Lilia extra ballet. Katsuki, Yura, goodnight. We meet downstairs at 8:30, understood?”

Without waiting for a response, Yakov unlocks his door and steps in, shutting it behind him with a click. The other three look at each other, not knowing what to do.

Yuuri is the first to act, and makes a move for his own door, pulling out his paper card holder containing two card keys. He hands one to Yuri and uses the other to enter his room. “Come in if you want to, okay?”

“I will,” Yuri confirms, glancing over at Victor, who was eyeing his card. Yuri cradles it to his chest, glaring at the silver-haired skater. “Piss off. And this is your warning that I haven't been kidnapped when you wake up and don’t see me.”

“Yes, well I know that now. Yura, do you think he likes me?”

“I don’t think anyone should like you.”

“That's not the question,” Victor sing-songs, holding open the door for both him and Yuri. “Don’t you think we’d make a good couple?”

He walks in and drops onto his bed, letting out a muffled groan into his bedsheets. “And his scarf! I can’t believe you’ve done this to me, Yura. It feels like I’ve been blessed but cursed at the same time.”

Yuri rolls his eyes, grabbing his pajamas before storming over to the bathroom, locking it behind him. “You’re the one gullible enough to think I needed a scarf. Have you ever seen me wear a scarf? You’re blinding yourself.”

“Well, you’ve never been in love, so I suppose you wouldn’t know.” Suddenly, Victor sits up, looking around the room in a sort of panic. “Yura! Do you think Yuuri’s in love with someone else? My heart wouldn’t be able to take it!”

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so at the very beginning, Victor says, "I'm in love, Yakov" right after he moons about Yuuri. Just wanted to clarify that Victor isn't in love with Yuuri because he's physically attracted to him. He still is, but there's a distinction between the two. I was writing it and felt bad because it made it seem like Victor was associating romantic attraction with sexual attraction, which he technically is, but that isn't how it works for everyone. It just happens that in Victor's case he feels both romantic and sexual attraction to Yuuri, and so he's combining it. It seems silly after typing this all out, but I thought you all should know!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Shoutout to Google, who I had to heavily rely on for this chapter. No joke, the Mediterranean food was just "x" until the very end, like an unidentified variable. I also searched up how to flirt, to help Victor out a bit, but it didn't do much.
> 
> The reason why Victor knows nothing about his rink mates until recently is that he just didn't pay attention to them. His backstory of being uninspired and kind of cold came into play. I wanted to make him meaner in this fic, but first, I don't think Yuri would stand for it, and second, he's more insensitive than anything which is hopefully rectified by him only having to flirt with Yuuri instead of doing that and coaching him at the same time.
> 
> A little bit of audience participation this week: tell me about a time you went out and had fun! It could be a date, with friends, or by yourself, as long as you enjoyed it. For me, I went out with a couple of friends about a year ago to exchange gifts for Secret Santa. We went to a semi-fancy restaurant and I split a burger with one of them (like the Yu(u)ris did), then went for a walk and gossiped about our classmates. I miss going on outings, but it's much more important to stay safe (and wear a mask if you do go outside)!


	18. I Descended From The Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a few meters away, Yuuri spots Victor approaching then, dressed in his red and white tracksuit. “I just bumped into JJ Leroy and his family. They’re quite eccentric. What’s with that glare, Yakov?”
> 
> “Didn’t I say 8:30?” Yakov admonishes, clicking his tongue as Victor sheepishly shrugs and takes a seat next to him. “Yura says you overslept. Overslept!”
> 
> “You worry too much.”
> 
> “Your free skate is today!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Did you miss me? I've officially started break, meaning I have time to go back and edit the previous chapters! We are wrapping up Skate Canada, which is fun. Enjoy!
> 
> Not edited.

Yuuri wakes up a few minutes before his alarm, rubbing at his eyes while he checks the time. A quick glance to his left shows Yuri, still asleep, curled up towards Yuuri’s direction. His chest rises and falls in soft, slow motions, making him look ever more like the youth he is.

Quietly shuffling out of bed, Yuuri slips into the bathroom, silent so as not to disturb the sleeping teen. He tangles his fingers in his hair, wincing as he tugs on the caught strands. Yuuri slowly brushes out his hair before reaching for his cup and toothbrush.

By the time he steps out, slinging his borrowed jacket over his shoulder, Yuri is barely awake, blinking sleep out of his eyes as he lifts himself up into a sitting position. 

“Good morning!” Yuuri smiles, placing a hand on the top of the drowsy skater’s head. “Did you sleep well?”

Yuri nods, waving his hand in a small back and forth motion in greeting. “What time is it?”

“Just turned eight. I’m sure Victor’s awake by now. Why don’t you go get dressed?”

The blonde hums, pushing the blankets away before shivering and rapidly snatching them back up, bringing it up to his shoulders.

“It’s way too cold today,” he grumbles as Yuuri laughs, wrapping the dark jacket around him. Yuri lets go of the sheets to hold the jacket closer to himself, rolling his shoulder back in a pseudo stretch. He finally gets up, grabbing the stray card lying on his nightstand before dragging himself to the door and walking out.

With Yuri out, Yuuri decides to start cleaning up the room, tucking stray clothes and unneeded items back into his bag. His flight was in a couple of hours, and the less he had to do when that time came, the better.

Just as he shuts the bag, Yuri knocks, leaning on the open doorway with his skate bag behind him. “So Victor _wasn’t_ awake. He still isn’t.”

Yuuri frowns, moving forward to join him. “What do you mean? We have to meet up with Coach Yakov in ten minutes.”

Yuri shrugs, turning his head to the side. It hid his face a bit, but Yuuri could spot the hint of a smug smile through strands of light blonde hair.

“You didn’t poison him, did you?” Yuuri asks as they step into the elevator, pressing the button to the ground floor. “That would be unfortunate.”

“I wish I did. Yakov’s going to yell at him, though, so that’s enough for me.”

“So we just...don’t wake him up?”

“Think of it as a lesson, so he remembers to set a proper alarm next time. Oh, and take this back.”

Yuri tries to hand him his jacket, to which Yuuri shakes his head. “I couldn’t!”

“I’ll make you. You’re the only one who’s ever worn it, so it’s pointless for me to have it.”

“But it was from your grandfather!” Yuuri protests.

“Dedushka would rather it be put to use than for it to waste away at the back of my closet. And I want you to have it.” Yuri insists, holding the jacket out.

“But--”

“Katsudon, I have watched you shiver and refuse to buy a thicker coat for _way_ too long now. Take it or I’ll burn it in front of you.”

“I can’t believe I’m being threatened.” Nevertheless, Yuuri accepts the jacket, slipping it on. He smiles fondly at Yuri, reaching out to smooth down a stray hair on his head. “You’re sweet to think of me.”

“Whatever.” Yuri grouses, but he still shifts closer to Yuri as other people get into the elevator, despite the plentiful open space.

Yakov is already seated by the time they get down, raising a questioning eyebrow at the absence of their third party member. “No Vitya?”

“He _overslept_ ,” Yuri grins, tucking his bag behind his seat. Behind him, Yuuri hesitantly nods, reluctant to snitch on Victor.

Yakov stares at him, expressionless, before sighing and dragging his hand over his face. “Of course he did.”

He waves them off, face still hidden. “Go get breakfast, and one of you bring me back a coffee.”

Still snickering to himself, Yuri heads off towards the section with grains while Yuuri grabs a plate and fills it with fruit and eggs, currently not needing to worry about his diet before the competition. He grabs the coffee that Yakov requested as well, shoving a couple of creamers and sugars into his pocket as well.

The lines are packed, leaving Yuuri to tighten his shoulders and hunch in on himself in an attempt to not bump into anyone. A glance over at Yuri shows that by straightening up to his tallest height and giving cold stares to anyone who nears him, he avoids having the same problem as his namesake.

The first thing he does when he gets back to the table is hand said coffee to Yakov, who nods in thanks. Yuri appears shortly after, stealing a slice of cantaloupe off Yuuri’s plate before squinting in the direction of the lobby.

“Please tell me that isn’t JJ,” he murmurs to Yuuri, who lifts his head up to see the Canadian skater strutting towards them, fiancée and parents close behind.

“Hello everyone! Hope you’ve been enjoying your day, JJ style!” As he speaks to them, JJ simultaneously strikes his iconic pose, Isabella letting out a smattering of claps from his side.

Yuri pulls a face. “We were doing just fine until you got here. Don’t you have fangirls to appease?”

“Good morning,” Yuuri greets, stopping JJ from responding. “How are you?”

Yuri rolls his eyes as JJ grins. “Feeling good! I’ll be sure to do well today for my fans! And our dear Yuri will have fun, won’t he? It doesn’t particularly matter where he places, he is just a beginner after all.”

“Beginner? I’ve broken junior records you couldn’t even _match_ during your time there.”

JJ presses on, ignorant of Yuri’s voice. “Of course, he’ll be a fan favorite, he is practically the second coming of Victor. But I’m sure the JJ Girls will stick by me.”

Yuuri sucks in a breath, wincing as Yuri scowls at JJ.“I am nothing like Victor you _lousy, rotted sack of shit._ ”

Frowning, JJ leans closer to them, causing Yuuri to slide back as the awkward middle man between them. “It was a compliment.”

“Maybe to someone like you.”

“I’m sure Yuri will do just fine,” Yuuri says, placing a placating hand on Yuri’s shoulder, who huffs and slides down into his chair, continuing to glower at JJ. “Coach Feltsman has taught him well.”

Yakov looks up, seemingly shocked at being mentioned. When he sees JJ, his face tightens and he sighs. “Leroy. How can I help you?”

“Coach Feltsmen, I’m sure Victor will do well, as usual.” If anyone heard the twang of bitterness surrounding his tone, nothing was said. “I was just wishing your other student luck.”

“I don’t _need_ your luck.” Yuri hisses, finally lunging towards JJ. “All you have to do is mind your damn business, that’s it.”

“I think you should watch that tone of yours, young man.” scolds JJ’s mother, a middle-aged woman with deep red hair jutting out at the end. She was known for being a part of one of the greatest ice dancing partnerships of her generation, but currently, all Yuuri can feel towards her is a slight annoyance. “No one talks to my son like that.”

“Well maybe if your son could _piss off_ , we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” 

Yakov clutches the brim of his hat, looking like he wants to pull it over his face and ignore all of them. “Manners, Yuri. Leroy, I would appreciate it if you went and enjoyed breakfast at your own table. We’ll see you at the stadium later.”

JJ shrugs. “Alright. Tell Victor I said hello!”

He and the rest of his group walk off, Isabella waving goodbye to them before turning away. Yuuri turns to Yuri, who is stabbing his fork through his food with enough force to lightly rattle the table.

“Ignore him, Yura. It’s not worth it.” Yakov warns, rubbing the sides of his head. From the inner pocket of his jacket, Yuuri pulls out a small container of aspirin and hands it to him, which Yakov rejects at first, shaking but then gestures for it. 

Yuuri slides his seat next to Yuri’s, humming as Yuri thuds his head on his shoulder. “I’m going to slice him with my skates.”

“You can do that after your free skate. Just focus on that for now, alright?”

“Right, he’s not important and completely useless.”

Yuuri lets out a huff of amusement, straightening out the hood rest on Yuri’s back. “Exactly.”

From a few meters away, he spots Victor approaching then, dressed in his red and white tracksuit. “I just bumped into JJ Leroy and his family. They’re quite eccentric. What’s with that glare, Yakov?”

“Didn’t I say 8:30?” Yakov admonishes, clicking his tongue as Victor sheepishly shrugs and takes a seat next to him. “Yura says you overslept. Overslept!”

“You worry too much.”

“Your free skate is today!”

Victor waves a nonchalant hand at Yakov, smiling at the two skaters sitting in front of him instead. “Good morning! Did you sleep well?”

“It was fine, thank you,” Yuuri replies. “Good luck on your free skate today!”

“I’ll do my best! What about you, Yura?”

“Fine. I’d ask you the same question, but do I really need to?”

Pouting, Victor slumps forwards, resting his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. “Can you blame me? I was up late!”

Yakov’s head snaps towards Victor’s direction, his face portraying emotions ranging from anger to despair to resignation. “You slept late? Do you not care about the _international competition you have_!?”

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asks. “You should eat something.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry. And here, I'll eat some toast.”

“Vitya, you are a grown adult, go get your own.”

Yuuri slides his own plate over, satiated enough and still mildly concerned. “Whenever Yura tells me not to worry something ends up going wrong.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Yuri protests, nudging Yuuri’s fork with his own. They end up getting caught on each other, causing Yuri to have to tug his away and point it at Yuuri. “If anything, you're the one stumbling into trouble.”

“I don't mean to!”

“I know you don't. I fully blame the other guy.”

“Other guy?”

“Guy, thing, situation, whatever is the cause of the problem,” Yuri clarifies.

“I feel like you had a specific example in mind when you said guy, Yura,” Victor says, cutting a piece of melon with the side of his fork. Yuri had already finished his eggs, leaving Victor with some fruit and slices of whole-grain toast put there by Yuri, who always gets them at breakfast and yet never eats it.

“You don't say.” Yuri scoffs, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair and stares at Victor with a vexed expression. “Are you done yet? Because some of us actually want to practice.”

“Don't rush me!”

“I wouldn't have to if you woke up on time, Sleeping Ugly.”

Yakov groans as he unscrews the container of aspirin Yuuri handed him, shaking out two pills into his palm and swallowing them before downing what little he had left of his coffee. “And it’s not even ten yet.”

They do make it to the stadium early, though later than what Yakov wanted, leading to him lecturing Victor on the way there.

“What were we even going to do? Official practice doesn't start till later!”

“You can unofficially practice as well! Or did you win gold by only practicing your routines right before the competition?”

Yuuri and Yuri once again walk behind them, sharing a pair of earbuds between them. Through a game of rock paper scissors, it was decided that Yuri would choose the music, leaving heavy metal buzzing in Yuuri’s left ear as he caught snippets of the conversation up ahead.

“Are you feeling nervous?” he asks Yuri.

Yuri tilts his head to the side in consideration. “Not really. I was yesterday, but now I feel more pissed at JJ than anything.”

“You've turned your nerves into anger,” Yuuri says in a fond tone. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I’m going to crush him. Metaphorically and literally.”

“In a violent mood today, are we?”

“Just towards him.”

“When are you not?”

Yuri bumps their shoulders together, huffing. Yuuri simply laughs, elbowing him back.

They arrive at the rink once more, and while Yuri and Victor check themselves in, Yuuri follows Yakov into the same secluded area they were in after Yuri’s short program.

“You don't want to go to the bleachers, Coach?”

“I have a bit of a headache,” Yakov explains. “I’ll go during warm-up and while they skate. They would have been one after another had JJ not come in between, but of course, he did.”

“Can you imagine if I went after you, Yura?” Victor says as they walk in, their respective skate baga tumbling in after them. “How much fun would that be?”

“I’d prefer you stay far away from me, with me last and you first.” Yuuri grumbles. He sits down next to Yuuri, swapping out his black zip-up for the official Team Russia jacket issued to him, and pulls out a hairbrush and elastics, handing them to Yuuri.

“Vitya, Yura, I expect you two to be on your best behavior, do you understand?” Yakov says in a stern voice. “That means no fighting.”

“Can we fight afterward?”

Yuuri moves his head to the side to look at Yuri, gently tugging on the hair he was braiding. “Yura!”

Yuri stares back, seemingly unfazed, though on closer look, his lips twitch upwards and there's a sheen of self-satisfaction in his eyes.

“Why do you want to fight me?” Victor asks, staring with a forlorn expression as Yuuri’s fingers comb through Yuru’s hair, pinning back the first braid.

“Why wouldn't I?”

Yakov’s eye twitches. “What did I just say? Warm-up is in five minutes. Five minutes!”

“All that stress is just going to make his hair fall out faster,” Yuri murmurs under his breath for him and Yuuri to hear. 

“Then stop tormenting him.” Yuuri chides, pulling back the two braids to join then in the middle of Yuri’s head. “You’re going to give him a heart attack.”

“Good riddance.” Nevertheless, Yuri stops, choosing instead to run two fingers along the side of his head, careful not to press too hard.

“Do you like it? I think you look lovely.” Yuuri’s hands hover around, eventually settling on Yuri’s shoulders, squeezing them lightly.

Yuri hums in agreement. “I’m just glad my costume isn't white this time. Now I don't look as ridiculous.”

“Hey, your Agape costume used to belong to me!”

“Exactly.” Yuri tilts his head back, looking up to catch Yuuri’s eye. “I'm going to go warm-up now.”

“Okay, skate well. I’ll be cheering you on!”

Yuri nods, standing up and stretching out his arms and legs. His blade guards are wrapped securely around his blades, a combination of white, blue, and red that reminds Yuuri of the Russian flag.

Victor has a similar pair that he quickly slips on before joining Yuri in the hallway. He waves goodbye to Yuuri and Yakov before turning the corner and disappearing out of sight. “Aren't you going to wait for me, Yura?”

“Why would I do that?”

“We’re teammates!”

“I'm trying to forget.”

Yakov sighs. “This is my new normal. It wasn't like this before they started competing in the same circuit. Why isn't there an extra-senior circuit I can shove Victor into?”

“Coach, are you alright?”

“I bet Cialdini doesn't have to deal with this. He and his skaters probably just exist in harmony. Imagine that.”

Yuuri pats his shoulder consolingly. “I’m sure it’ll turn out fine.”

“Thank you, Katsuki. That's kind of you. Now, if you could perhaps take Yura with you as well.”

“I don't think Celestino could handle him. Plus, you two seem to work well together.”

“Well,” Yakov sighs. “I tried.”

\- - - -

“Give it up for Emil Nekola!”

“He is currently in first place with a total combined score of 271.32. Congratulations.”

“Don't sound so tired! Isn't this fun?”

“It would be more fun if I didn't spend most of last night going over the booklet with you. Which, might I add, you should have reviewed _weeks_ ago.”

“But I didn't know there was a booklet weeks ago!”

“Tremblay, you didn't know about this till yesterday. Don't make it sound like you just barely missed it. And there was an email. Multiple, actually.”

“Let’s just put that aside for now, yeah?”

“Like you have for weeks now? Mhm, sure. Up next is Yuri Plisetsky skating to Piano Concerto in B-minor: Allegro Appasionato.”

“A very intense song! What do you think, Eli?”

“You don’t get a say in this; going _down_ the stairs winds you.”

“You don’t feel a rush when you listen? No pounding in your heart?”

“That’s called a heartbeat. Should I be worried about you?”

“I am perfectly fine! But Plisetsky’s chosen music is known for being difficult.”

“Yes, I know.”

“This was choreographed by Lilia Baranovskaya, a world-famous— did you just say you know?”

“I don’t know why you act as if we didn’t start working in figure skating at the same time. We probably have the same library of information.”

“You really don’t feel anything?”

“I think it’s a well-composed song, but I’m not about to trip and fall over myself because my heart ‘intensely pounds’ over it.”

“You’re missing out!”

“Not really. It mainly sounds concerning. I think I'll pass.”

“Alright, well Plisetsky’s program consists of all the required elements, along with two Quads! Pretty loaded for his senior debut!”

“The ISU had to really look for the step sequence, but it's there.”

“Its choreographer is Lilia Baranovskaya, a world-class ballerina. She seems a bit scary. Look, there's his starting position!”

“Of course you would be scared of her. Madame Baranovskaya is known for creating complicated choreography.”

“That's right, you did ballet, didn't you? Janice showed me pictures once!”

“Janice did _what_.”

“We’re starting off strong with a quad toe loop-double toe loop combination! Excellent landing!”

“Tremblay, answer me or you will be finding someone unpleasant in your coffee tomorrow.”

“Jeez, Eli, don’t mess with a guy’s coffee. We were just talking about you and she showed me.”

“Please stop having conversations in regards to me. It never turns out well.”

“But I like talking about you!”

“Uh-huh. Next comes Plisesky’s flying sit spin.”

“Can you spin like that?”

“We are not having that discussion here.”

“A quad Salchow into a change foot camel spin! He’s quite good at those Salchows, don’t you think?”

“Mhm. That should be all of his quads for the free skate.”

“I’m kind of surprised he didn’t backload.”

“Not everyone has enough stamina to do so. I don’t think even Nikiforov could.”

“Yeah, but isn’t he friends with Yuuri Katsuki?”

“Oh, so now you know who Katsuki is?”

“Mean, Eli. I knew who he was!”

“Sure you did. A triple loop. Now comes his choreography. It should arguably be the best part of his routine, seen as it was created by a prima ballerina assoluta.”

“It’s very passionate, though I can’t place what emotion it is.”

“I don’t think you’re meant to. It’s more a portrayal of the sheer force of emotions in of itself rather than any specific one.”

“Well, aren’t you smart! Bet you did well in English, didn’t you?”

“I bet you failed English.”

“...”

“I knew it. A triple axel to end the first half of the program, and coming up will be a triple flip.”

“Plisetsky has a lot of combinations in his second half! Did you like doing combos when you competed, Eli?”

“Eh, they could be fun. Made me dizzy in the beginning.”

“I get dizzy just looking at them.”

“Well, you are a hockey player.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? Eli?”

“A three jump, triple Axel-single loop-triple Salchow combination. Plisetsky nails the landing. That might be one of his better landings.”

“Wait, I want an explanation! Are you bashing ice hockey?”

“Don’t be ridiculous; I like watching you play.”

“You like watching me fall!”

“Same difference.”

“I’ll have you—an excellent triple lutz-triple toe loop from Plisetsky—I’ll have you know that I was one of the best players on my team!”

“I think his takeoff was a bit shaky, but just barely.”

“Don’t be so nitpicky.”

“It’s literally our job to be nitpicky.”

“But I like Plisetsky! Look at him, he’s so lanky yet graceful.”

“You like anyone from Team Russia. And it’s only because of Mila Babicheva.”

“Can you blame me? She skates like she’s competing in the men’s division! The amount of triples she has is amazing! Plus, I’ve heard she’s trying to do a quad!”

“We get it; you’re a fanboy.”

“Says the one talking about Yuuri Katsuki during our breaks.”

“Well, at least I know who your favorite skater is. Here comes Plisetsky’s triple...”

“He’s changed it into a quad toe loop! And then immediately into his final spin, very impressive!”

“Good execution on the combination spin with change of foot.”

“The last element should be his step sequence, right?”

“Congratulations on remembering what was on the booklet. You better have, after I spent 3 hours going over it with you when I could have been sleeping.”

“I let you nap on the way here, didn’t I?”

“If anything, it was Janice who let me sleep. She’s the one who drove us.”

“But I prevented you from banging your head on the window! You could have died without me!”

“Sure. Well, thank you anyway, Tremblay.”

“No problem! Look at that step sequence! Plisetsky’s really gotten better at those.”

“They’re reminiscent of Katsuki’s yet again.”

“You can tell?”

“The way his body is angled is very similar to how Katsuki does his. And some of his footwork I recognize from previous routines of Katsuki’s as well.”

“That’s so cool! A round of applause for Yuri Plisetsky, everyone!”

“His score is 195.42, giving him a total combined score of 295.32. Yuri Plisetsky is currently in first place.”

“Next up is our very own Jean-Jaques Leroy! We seem to be following the same pattern as yesterday.”

“Fun.”

\- - - -

Yuuri hands a panting Yuri his water bottle, leading him to the bench. “You feeling good?”

Yuri nods, glaring at the television in the corner as JJ comes into view, waving to the crowd. He takes a chug of water before setting down the bottle and unlacing his skates, wiping them down and wrapping soakers around the blades once they become dry enough.

“I hope he trips over himself and falls,” Yuri says, gesturing to the screen as Yakov chokes on the cracker he was eating.

“Yura!” he scolds, though Yuri pays him no mind and simply scoots closer to Yuuri, who runs his fingers through the blonde’s hair, detangling the caught strands.

“At least he doesn’t seem that upset?”

“He doesn’t have the emotional capacity to be upset right now, it’s all just rage,” Yakov replies, mumbling to himself in Russian as he coughs and reaches for his cup.

“I can hear you!”

“You were meant to!”

“Whatever,” Yuri grumbles, softly banging his head onto Yuuri’s shoulder repeatedly. Yuuri slides his hand between them, pushing Yuri’s forehead back up so that they’re looking at each other.

“You did well today.” he smiles. “It might be your best performance yet.”

“But JJ and Victor are still going to beat me.” Yuri frowns, crossing his arms.

“Even if they do, I’m still proud of you. And you can beat them next time.”

Yuri lets out a soft huff. “Yeah. You will too.”

“I don’t know about that…” Yuuri trails off, smiling sheepishly as Yuri turns his glare onto him.

“You will. If not, crush them at Barcelona. If JJ even manages to _get_ to Barcelona.”

“I’m sure he will. He’s a good enough skater, and he gets unusually high scores on his short programs.”

Yuri clicks his tongue, waving a hand in the air. “Forget about him. We’re going to win together.”

Yuuri’s taken aback for a second before smiling at Yuri. “Alright, together it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! When I said double update, I didn't mean double the word count, but that ended up happening anyway. Another chapter should be up by the end of this week, fingers crossed!
> 
> I imagine JJ calls everyone by their first name and insists they do the same for him, both because he's Canadian and because he's JJ.
> 
> Yuri's free skate doesn't actually have a step sequence in it even though it's a required element, so I gave him one. I don't think the full routine was ever shown on screen, just the elements, so if I want to add a step sequence I'm going to add a step sequence.
> 
> I made up that score btw, it's probably not accurate. If you understand how figure skating judging works, feel free to correct me! On that note, I've been capitalizing the jumps and spins incorrectly according to US Figure Skating guidelines, so I'll be sure to fix it.


	19. Left Or Right, It’s A Complex Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  _Yura: did he cry_   
> 
> 
> _Yuuri: Georgi?_
> 
>   
> _Yuri: who else_  
> 
> 
> _Yuuri: I mean, he didn't not cry._
> 
>   
> _Yura: don't pull this double negative bullshit with me_  
> 
> 
>   
> _Yura: so he cried_  
> 
> 
> _Yuuri: ...Yeah, he cried._
> 
>   
> _Yura: ha_  
> 
> 
> _Yuuri: Yura!_
> 
>   
> _Yura: i’m not sorry_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I didn't get this out in time, but Merry Christmas/ happy whatever major or minor holiday you celebrate. The first 9 chapters have been edited, so if you're rereading it you don't have to shake your head at the errors so much. 
> 
> I do still owe y'all a chapter. Just assume that one day I'll come out with two in a week. Most likely during the Rostlecom arc, when our social media fiends will be back!
> 
> A new character has been added to the roster today! I mean, they aren't new new, but still. Nevertheless, please enjoy!
> 
> Not edited. If the formatting is wonky, I posted this on my phone, so that's why. It will be fixed, just in like 14 hours.

Second place wasn’t bad, especially if it was your very first senior competition. Even so, Yuri sulks the entire way to the airport, snapping back at Victor, who had placed first, with more vigor than usual.

“Don’t look so gloomy, Yura! Not many skaters place on the podium on their first go. I personally did, but that’s just me.”

“Do you want me to break your knees? Because I will, without hesitation.”

“That’s quite violent of you.”

“No, violent would be gouging out your eyes and feeding them back to you. I’m being _civil_.”

Yuuri sighs, fidgeting in place. Originally, he was just going to head to the airport by himself, but then Yuri wanted to tag along, which led to Yakov following. Victor…well, Yuuri doesn't exactly know why Victor chose to join them, but with a full party, they hailed a cab and headed off. Yakov chose to sit upfront, leaving Yuuri to act as a mediator and sit between Yuri and Victor.

“It’s still possible for you to attend the finale, you know.” Victor points out.

“ _No shit_.”

“I’m just saying!”

“Well, say less.”

At the airport, Yakov and Victor wait outside while Yuri accompanies Yuuri to as far as he can go. 

“Do you have to leave for China so early?” the blonde asks, tone sounding close to sulking. “What would you even do there?”

“It’s only a couple of weeks, and then we’ll see each other again at Rostlecom,” Yuuri promises. “As for China, I’ll figure something out. Phichit and Celestino will be arriving soon as well, and I should meet up with them before the competition.”

Yuri huffs, but hands over Yuuri’s backpack he had been carrying. “You better call me when you land.”

“I’ll call.” Yuuri assures him, tousling his hair. Yuri puffs out his cheeks, reaching up to catch the other’s hand.

Yuuri laughs. “I’ll miss you.”

“Whatever. Have a good flight.”

Yuri waves him off, watching as Yuuri hurries off into security. Once he is fully assimilated into the line, and Yuri can no longer spot his back, he turns around and heads back to the others, disappearing into the busy crowd.

As Yuuri waits in the security line, he absentmindedly fidgets with the zipper on the end of his jacket. Past the barrier of the metal detectors, people stride throughout the open area, some speaking rapidly on the phone, most dragging a suitcase behind them. 

He finally reaches the front, slipping off his bag and placing it in a tub. With a quick glance over to make sure he isn’t missing anything, Yuuri steps in the metal detector, which spins its doors closed around him before beeping green and opening once more.

Shoulders slumping in relief, Yuuri exits the machine, grabbing his backpack from the end of the conveyor belt. Despite having gone through the exact same process multiple times a year, he was always nervous about accidentally missing something and triggering an alarm.

Finding the terminal is easier than expected. Yuuri has been in this airport before, and the layout was easy to understand even if he forgot. The worst part was waiting. Yuuri was hungry, yet didn’t want to leave the terminal nor pay for food on the plane. It leaves him in an awkward position, and eventually he decides to just tough it out.

“Excuse me?”

“Hm?” Yuuri turns his head to see a young Japanese man standing in front of him. Once he sees that he has Yuuri’s attention, he waves eagerly.

“Hi!” he says in Japanese, beaming up at the skater. “I’m a big fan of yours!”

“Oh, thank you!” Yuuri replies, feeling his face heat up. “I’m glad to have your support.”

“I watched your Nationals performance! It was amazing, Katsuki-san.” The boy says, seemingly stumbling over his words, using wrong pitches and out of style vocabulary. “You’ll definitely place in the Grand Prix this year!”

Nervously, Yuuri chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll try my best.”

They continue to chat, though the boy seems especially nervous, even more so than Yuuri. He keeps saying the wrong word before quickly correcting himself. The strangest part was how he rolled his r’s, but that could just be a trend Yuuri wasn’t aware of.

Nevertheless, he was pleasant to speak with, introducing himself as Yamamoto Noa. Yamamoto was very chipper, showering Yuuri with compliments that had the skater stuttering out flustered thanks.

“Um, if you don’t mind, I want to… I have…sorry, can we switch to English?”

_Oh._

“Of course!”

“Okay, so I had a question for you.” Noah says, tone more confident now. His form even straightens, showing off his extra centimeters of height over Yuuri.

Yuuri nods, gesturing for him to continue.

“Are you and Yuri Plisetsky friends?’

“Oh! Yes, we are.” Yuuri confirms. “He’s a good friend of mine.”

Noah’s eyes light up, and his hands tug on the long strings of his hoodie in his excitement. “Okay, that good! Because I’ve been talking to a fan of his, and we made a joint account, and it would be really sad if we had to delete it.”

“Joint account?”

“Mhm, to post about your competitions and stuff.” 

He looks as if he wants to say something more, but suddenly his phone starts buzzing rapidly. Noah glances at it, then sucks in a deep breath, eyes widening. “My flight’s about to take off! Sorry, Katsuki-san.”

Noah holds out his hand, a gesture Yuuri knows from countless international meetings and college means he’s supposed to grasp it and shake. “It was a pleasure to meet you! Good luck in the Cup of China!”

“You too! I’ll do my best this season!”

After the young adult leaves, running back to the terminal opposite of his, Yuuri sinks back into his chair, rolling his shoulders back. Unfortunately, now is when the plane decides to start boarding, the attendant coming onto the intercom to call for the first group. Holding back a groan, Yuuri sits up, dragging himself to the line forming at the front. 

He manages to get to his seat with little hassle, nodding at the other two passengers sitting next to him. After everyone has boarded, the plane takes off, and Yuuri winces as he pops his ears. He tries to get some sleep, but ends up just reading a magazine he found until they stop at the layover.

Once on land, he calls Celestino, confirming meet-up details like the location and the name of the hotel. After, he strolls through the airport and picks a spot to eat at, scarfing it down before quickly heading back to the terminal, lest he miss his flight.

On his second flight, the combination of it being later in the day as well as having eaten leads to Yuuri drifting off, resting his head on a bunched-up hoodie he put on his shoulder. A couple hours later, he wakes up, blinking awake to see dimmed lights throughout the plane and hear the quiet thrum of the engine.

Checking the time, they seem to be less than halfway done with the flight, so Yuuri simply shifts himself into a more comfortable position and falls asleep once more.

He wakes up to the plane bouncing onto the runway, hearing muffled and uncomfortable. Grimacing, Yuuri massages his ears, swallowing to try and relieve the pressure. Well, at least they had made it.

Grabbing his backpack from beneath the seat, Yuuri steps off the plane, into the airport, and immediately looks for a restroom. He finds one, and lets out a sigh in relief that he doesn’t have to wait in line.

He splashes water on his face, wiping down his glasses afterwards. His hair is mussed up from sleeping on the flight, and Yuuri tries his best to comb through it with his fingers. Once he deemed his appearance satisfactory, he heads out and walks to customs, filling out forms and being scanned as needed.

Finally, he exits the airport and takes his first glance at Shanghai. Cars carrying tourists and locals alike whizz by despite it being early in the morning. Yuuri himself hails a cab, showing the driver the name of the hotel on his phone. On the way there, he decides to go through his messages, reassuring his family and friends that he was alright and had landed safely.

_Yuuri: Tada! Shanghai’s pretty._

_Yuuri: (sent image)_

_Yura: glad to see you’re still alive_

_Yura: yakov’s taking us back to russia for a few days before he leaves for china_

_Yuuri: Why?_

_Yura: he says his salary doesn’t include having to deal with us and then georgi consecutively_

_Yura: victor was whining about it during the entire flight_

_Yura: it was exhausting_

_Yuuri: Oh dear._

_Yuuri: Did you manage to take a nap?_

_Yura: a little_

_Yura: i threatened him to get him to shut up so i could get some quiet_

_Yuuri: Yura! You didn’t have to do that!_

_Yura: you would too if you were me_

_Yura: gotta go, victor’s bothering me_

_Yura: see you soon_

_Yuuri: Take care of yourself!_

“Sir? Is this your stop?”

Yuuri looks up to find a tall building looming in front of him, people streaming in and out of the entrances. “Yes, thank you!”

He pays the driver, glad he remembered to keep Chinese currency on him before leaving for Canada. After closing the car’s door, Yuuri follows a small crowd into the hotel, nodding in thanks at the person holding open the door.

Once inside, he easily spots Celestino and Phichit sitting together. Phichit notices him and waves, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Yuuri!”

“Hey! How was the flight?”

Celestino hands him a suitcase, the one Yuuri pre-packed with his main skates and costume. “It was good. Phichit kept stopping us to take pictures on the way there.”

“We left at sunset! It was pretty!”

“I’m sure it was.” Yuuri assures. “Have you checked in?”

Phichit nods, holding up his room card with one hand and offering Yuuri his with the other. “We get to be roommates again!”

Yuuri takes it, slipping it into the front pocket of his jeans. The three of them head for the elevator, Celestino pressing the button for them to slide open the door. Despite being a small party of three, the area is more cramped, with Yuuri and Phichit both lugging around huge suitcases and Celestino having a suitcase as well, albeit a smaller one.

“Where’s Muramoto?” Yuuri asks. “Shouldn’t she be with you?”

“Satsuki’s coming a bit later, said she had to take care of something beforehand.” Phichit explains. “So for now it’s just me and Ciao-Ciao!”

They get off on the third floor, where they promptly bump into Guang Hong Ji and his coach. Phichit’s face lights up, and he turns to Celestino, hands clasped in a begging motion. Celestino sighs, but waves him away nevertheless. “Go ahead.”

“Yay! Yuuri, will you take my bags for me? Please?”

Yuuri nods, and Phichit grins at him, handing off his suitcase. “Thank you!”

He bounds over to the Chinese skater, greeting him enthusiastically. Yuuri and Celestino continue off on their own, though they soon split off to go into their respective rooms. Yuuri drops off his and Phichit’s luggages, claiming the bed closest to the door as his.

As he exits the room, he hears a voice from behind him. “Yuuri Katsuki?”

Turning around, he sees a taller man with dark hair tapered off to a point on one side and dark blue eyes. “Yes, that’s me. Popovich, right?”

Georgi Popovich nods, placing a hand on his hip. “Georgi is fine. Would you like to walk with me?”

“Um, sure!”

They head down and out of the hotel and into the streets, passing by groups of people. “Yura had told us many things about you.”

Yuuri chuckles. “I would say the same, but I don’t think what he says is entirely correct.”

“Really? What does he say?”

“You really don’t want to know.”

Georgi tilts his head to the side. “Surely it can’t be that bad.”

“Well, for you it’s mainly just talk about Anya.”

“Anya!” At this, Georgi starts to tear up, and he hangs his head down. “I see why you don’t want me to hear his cruel words. Did you know she’s participating in the Cup of China as well? Her and her new boyfriend-partner.”

His shoulders start to tremble, and Yuuri is quick to lead them to a more secluded area. “Why don’t we go sit down somewhere?”

They end up in the corner of a small cafe, each with a drink in front of him. Yuuri orders a tea while Georgi has somehow managed to convince the waitress to serve him juice and a shot of alcohol.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finishing his drink at an alarming pace. “This isn’t a very good first impression.”

“Not at all! I mean, Yura yelled at me the first time we met.”

“Well, our Yura sure is an enigma! I don’t know how you managed to get him to warm up to you so quickly, but it’s impressive.”

“I mostly just got drunk and forced my number onto him.” Yuuri replies, laughing alongside Georgi, whose eyes crinkle when he smiles.

“It worked! You seem to be the only person he likes, other than his grandfather.”

They continue to chat, with Georgi leading the conversation and Yuuri following. Yuuri learns that while he certainly has the flair that Yuri describes, the Russian skater also has a serious edge to him.

“And I wanted the mascara to drip down my cheeks, but Yakov said no! Can you believe it?”

Though, said edge is mostly counteracted by his more dramatic personality and tastes.

Yuuri finds himself enjoying Georgi’s company, even opening up to him about his family and the onsen they run. Their conversation runs into the evening, so the two decide to take dinner at the cafe as well. Everything seems to be going well, at least until…

“Georgi? What are you doing here?”

“Anya?”

Yuuri looks up to see a couple standing over him, arms wrapped around each other. The woman has dark, wavy hair that falls to her shoulders, freckles Yuuri can barely see, and brown eyes that are starting coldly at Georgi.

“Are you following me?” she asks, lips turning down into a frown. “I just wanted to eat with my boyfriend in peace.”

The man next to Anya cups her cheek, pressing their foreheads together. “My love, I'll go anywhere with you, even if it is crowded.”

“Darling! Anywhere?”

“As long as I have you by my side.”

Georgi tries to stutter out a response, but the two of them ignore him, choosing instead to press their lips together. Yuuri winces, turning his attention back to Georgi, who looks miserable, as if someone had killed his puppy.

“Excuse me,” Yuuri says, interrupting the couple. “But we were here first. There's no way Georgi could have predicted that you would be here.”

Anya scoffs. “Like that would stop him. I don't know what you know about him, but he's clingy. If I were you I'd stop hanging out with him.”

“Fret not, my treasure, I’ll protect you.” the unnamed man boasts.

“Oh, baby, you're so strong!”

Georgi sniffs. “ What a joke. Mila's stronger than him. I've seen his lifts, and his arms always tremble.”

Yuuri nods, watching as the two walk away without bothering to speak to the skaters again.

Groaning, Georgi thunks his head on the table, only a few centimeters away from the butter knife. “Oh, to be on the other side of young love. Anya, must you harm me so?”

“Maybe it would be best to forget her.” Yuuri suggests, reaching across the table to pat Georgi’s shoulder lightly.

“No, my heart can forgive, but must never forget the heartbreak experienced. It will make our reunion that much sweeter.”

“That doesn't make a lot of sense…”

Suddenly, Georgi lifts up his head, reinvigorated. “What if I told her the song was dedicated to her? Would that win her back? Oh, or I could cook Anya her favorite meal!”

“I thought Yura said you didn't know how to cook.”

“I don't! Hmm, perhaps I should ferment a bottle of wine instead. Or hire a group of singing monkeys!”

As Georgi continues to rattle off suggestions, Yuuri feels his phone vibrate. Unlocking it shows a text from Yuri.

_Yura: are you enjoying china_

_Yuuri: I met Georgi and Anya!_

_Yura: oh no_

_Yuuri: How about you?_

_Yura: i finally got to sleep in peace_

_Yura: almost managed to locked victor a closet but that's whatever_

_Yura: did he cry_

_Yuuri: Georgi?_

_Yuri: who else_

_Yuuri: I mean, he didn't not cry._

_Yura: don't pull this double negative bullshit with me_

_Yura: so he cried_

_Yuuri: ...Yeah, he cried._

_Yura: ha_

_Yuuri: Yura!_

_Yura: i’m not sorry_

“Yuuri, what if I just… _killed him_? In a fight for her honor!”

“Let's _not_ do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I was writing this on my phone and it autocorrected one of the verbs (assures) to it's past tense (assures). Probably a sign I should write in past tense, but this is fine, and I can't be bothered to go back and change everything.
> 
> For Mister Yamamoto, the first one being Noa isn't a mistake. Yuuri assumes he's a native Japanese, and that's one of their names, Noa. When he learns that he's American-Japanese, he assumes that the name is Noah, the English name, instead. That's also why he switches from thinking of him in last name to first name. Fun fact, Yamamoto means mountain base (maybe), but in Chinese it would mean mountain book.
> 
> Georgi is slowly going to get more dramatic as time goes on. If I ever write a sequel (which might happen, I have some ideas), that's where his true personality will shine. It's the frog in water scenario, we don't want to hit Yuuri with all the heat first, just slowly expose him to more and more of it.


	20. Even Reach That Infinite Sky, Happiness Overlap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they’re splitting the bill, Georgi suddenly pipes up. “So, Yuuri, are you in love with anyone?”
> 
> Yuuri lets out a harsh cough, choking on his own spit as his hand comes up to grasp at the area above his collarbone in an attempt to settle himself.
> 
> “Are you okay? Oh, I’m so sorry!” Georgi clutches his shoulders, shaking Yuuri back and forth. “Don’t die, Yura would murder me! I don’t want to die, Yuuri!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Good evening to the evening dwellers. How have you all been? Once again, nothing happens in this chapter, or maybe not. I kinda blacked out after writing this. Enjoy!
> 
> Not edited.
> 
> SO I NEED SOME HELP: To all my Japanese readers, is Culture Day a big thing in Japan? And if so, would it be celebrated even if the person was outside Japan? Because the day this chapter takes place is November 3rd, which Google says is a holiday in Japan. If it’s just something like Labor Day, then I don’t want to make a big fuss of it. I realize I should’ve asked this way earlier, but I forgot (whoops).

As they’re splitting the bill, Georgi suddenly pipes up. “So, Yuuri, are you in love with anyone?”

Yuuri lets out a harsh cough, choking on his own spit as his hand comes up to grasp at the area above his collarbone in an attempt to settle himself.

“Are you okay? Oh, I’m so sorry!” Georgi clutches his shoulders, shaking Yuuri back and forth. “Don’t die, Yura would murder me! I don’t want to die, Yuuri!”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Yuuri waves him off, trying his best to clear his throat. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing, just wanted someone to relate with.” Georgi laughs, though it seems a bit forced, eyes darting away from Yuuri. “Say, you’ve met Victor, haven’t you?”

“Like your rink mate?” Yuuri asks as Georgi nods rapidly in response. “Yeah, we met at Skate Canada.”

“Skate Canada? That’s the first time you met him?”

“Yeah, as far as I can tell.”

Georgi looks confused, his eyebrows drawn together and his lips turned downwards. “Huh.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Just, Victor told me something different.”

They walk out of the cafe and into the cold and crowded streets. Georgi and Yuuri shift closer to each other in order to hear the other talk over the bustling hum of the crowd. Georgi in particular cups a hand around half his face and slightly leans down. “Speaking of our dear Victor, don’t you think he’s attractive?”

“Georgi, you do realize he’s been number one in multiple beauty ranking lists? Yes, he’s attractive.”

Georgi sighs. “I know, his fans adore his figure. But what do you feel?”

“Well…” Here Yuuri trails off, feeling his face heat up. 

“Well?”

“I guess so. He has a nice jawline, and I do like his arms.”

Georgi bobs his head, eyes shining with an emotion Yuuri can’t quite place. “Yes! And he’s very nice. You know he made us dinner once? It was those cutlet bowls Yura said you liked.”

“He did mention that he had been taking cooking classes,” Yuuri recalls, thinking back to the warm dinner they had, and Victor’s eager smile. “It’s awfully kind of him to cook for you all.”

“Yes, isn’t he just the best? He’d make a good partner, you know.”

Yuuri chuckles, watching as his breath condenses and forms into a cloud of air in front of him. “I know. I thought about it a lot when I was younger.”

“Really?!” Georgi’s eyes light up, and he leans in closer. “Do you like him? He’s great, isn’t he?”

Upon hearing Georgi’s question, Yuuri pauses in his footsteps, turning his head to stare at the man beside him. “Georgi, do _you_ like him?”

“...What.”

“You hype him up a lot,” Yuuri points out. “It’s endearing to hear you go on about it.”

“No, you don’t understand!” Georgi’s eyes are open wide in a state of panic, and he stumbles over his words, talking rapidly. “It’s not… and I have Anya… if anything you…”

“Georgi.” Yuuri places a hand on his shoulder, gently patting it. “It’s okay. I won’t tell.”

“But Anya! How could I like him if I’m still in love with Anya?” Georgi insists. 

“You can still be heartbroken and start liking someone else. Plus, plenty of people like multiple others at once. It’s not strange.” 

They make it to the hotel, and Yuuri leads them to the elevator as Georgi lags behind, murmuring to himself in Russian.

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asks once they step inside. Georgi has his face buried in his hands, his shoulders slumped and desolate.

“Young love is burning down in front of my eyes, Yuuri.” Georgi bemoans, his voice muffled.

Yuuri hums in sympathy, fingers running up and down the elevator buttons before pressing one, watching as the door slides shut in front of them. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Georgi shakes his head, hands sliding down to reveal his dark eyes. “Don’t worry, I know it’s not me. It is _definitely_ the other people.”

“Victor and Anya?”

“Not Anya! My dearest Anya, when will you once more look into my eyes and caress my soul? Without you there is no me; I am empty, devoid of the wisps of joy I once had. 

“Georgi...”

“Right, Victor! Well, yes, I have _many_ problems with him, but the person I'm talking about is a bit different.”

“Ah.” The desire to ask of the mysterious person’s identity runs through him, but Yuuri refrains from doing so, lest he intrudes on Georgi’s feelings. “Well, good luck.”

Georgi sighs, shooting Yuuri a weary smile. “Thank you. I have a feeling I’ll need it.”

The speaker above them dings, and the metal doors open, allowing Yuuri and Georgi to enter the floor’s lobby. 

“What are you going to do tomorrow?” Georgi asks, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Nothing much,” Yuuri shrugs. “I’ll probably decide after practice.”

“Then, do you want to go sightseeing? I was planning on exploring the city in the afternoon.”

“Really? Are you sure you want me to come with you?”

Georgi nods, waving him off as he spots the uncertainty in Yuuri’s tone. “It’s been fun talking to you, even if it did break my heart.”

“What?”

“Nothing! Plus, Yakov’s flying in at noon and I want to avoid him.”

“Why?”

“He’s going to yell at me for not practicing.” Georgi sighs. “How could I, when my heart’s been shattered and grounded up under the cruel heel of a tattered love?”

He looks off into the distance, eyes glassy from unshed tears, clutching at his chest. Suddenly, he blinks and looks at Yuuri, demeanor a lot more cheerful. “So! I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Taken aback, Yuuri fumbles for a reply. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Yes? Yes, see you tomorrow.”

Georgi grins, no trace of his previous mood in sight. Yuuri hesitantly grins back. They walk down a hallway together before parting ways, going in opposite directions.

While Georgi heads right, Yuuri turns left, fishing his key card out of his pocket before sliding it through, the machine letting out a beep as the door clicks open.

The suitcases are untouched, leaving Yuuri to wonder just how late Phichit was going to stay up. He ends up removing Phichit’s costume and laying it on his bed for him, not wanting the clothing to further fold and possibly wrinkle. He unzips his own as well, hanging up his costume in the small closet provided before taking out his toiletry bag.

The bathroom is located to the right of the room door, a short hallway separating it from the beds and the rest of the room. This leads to Yuuri nearly crashing into Phichit as he leaves the bathroom, shrieking as the Thai skater laughs at him while taking off his shoes.

“Phichit!”

“Yuuri! You got my costume out for me!”

“You scared me!”

“Sorry, sorry! You alright?”

“ _No!_ ”

Phichit continues to chuckle, holding his hands up as Yuuri huffs at him before dropping onto his bed.

“At least dry your hair before bed.”

“My humiliation has dried it for me,” Yuuri murmurs, burying his face in one of his pillows, stacking the other on top of his head. Phichit shrugs off his jacket, tossing it onto the back of an armchair.

“Celestino wants us down at nine.”

“Alright. I should go to bed then. Turn off the lights when you’re done.”

“Alright! Don’t bump into any more people, okay?”

“ _Goodnight_ , Phichit.”

\- - - -

Yuuri ends up being the first one downstairs, having left Phichit happily sleeping away in their room. Celestino is nowhere to be found as well, which leaves Yuuri to decide where to sit. He ends up placing his bag on a booth in the corner of the room before heading towards the food lines.

On his way back, he spots Georgi sitting alone, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Yuuri waves, going over to greet him. “Good morning!”

“Ah, Yuuri, good morning. I was just texting Yakov.”

“Is anything wrong?”

Georgi huffs, crossing his arms. From one hand, his phone dangles between two fingers. “Yakov decided to board an earlier flight. He says he doesn’t trust me. Me! Can you believe it?”

“Didn’t you say you skipped practice for three days to try to learn how to play the guitar?”

“I wanted to serenade Anya! It’s romantic.”

Yuuri chooses not to say anything. “So when is he coming?”

“Ah, about three hours ago. He’s in his room right, with—”

Yuuri tilts his head, confused at the sudden pause in Georgi’s sentence. The Russian man lets out a high pitched laugh, shifting his eyes to the side. “Nothing. He’s… with a headache! Yup. Poor Yakov.”

“Is he alright? I have aspirin if he wants. They seemed to work for him last time.”

“Aw, that’s nice of you!” Georgi says. “ **Victor doesn’t deserve you.** ”

“Hm?”

“Yakov will be fine. He’ll come down in about an hour or so for practice.”

Yuuri hums. “Then, would you like to eat breakfast with us?”

“Really?” Georgi’s eyes light up, and he pushes back his chair, standing up. “I’d like that!”

Yuuri smiles, gesturing to his table. “Here, follow me.”

Yuuri leads them to his booth, placing his plate down on the table as Georgi sits down next to his bag. He offers some of his food, and Georgi delicately takes a cracker, nibbling on it.

“I don’t talk to a lot of skaters; they don’t really like me,” he explains. “They usually want to befriend Victor instead, with him the living legend and whatnot.”

“That seems mean.” Yuuri frowns. At first, he didn’t process what Georgi said; he spoke about it so casually, as if he was just describing the weather.

Georgi simply shrugs. “It comes with being on the same team as Victor.”

Yuuri opens his mouth, wanting to say more, but stops as he sees Celestino and Phichit in the corner of his eye. He waves them over, watching as their face morphs from drowsiness to confusion.

“Is that Georgi Popovich?” Celestino asks, squinting at them before rubbing his and squinting once more.

Yuuri nods. “He doesn’t have anyone else to sit with, so I invited him over.”

His tone made it clear that he wouldn’t be accepting arguments. Phichit seems to accept it, setting down his breakfast to take some of Yuuri’s. He and Celestino sit across from the other two skaters, filling up their table. “So, are you just collecting Russian skaters now?”

From beside the Thai skater, Celestino laughs, disguising it as a cough when Yuuri shoots a betrayed look at him.

“I’m not collecting them!” Yuuri protests. “Why do you make it sound so weird?”

“I mean, you got Yuri Pliset—“ Phichit let’s put a sudden gasp, his eyes brightening in revelation. “He’s the guy you send all those videos to!”

“Yes, Phichit, I’ve told you this!”

“No, you tricked me!”

Yuuri says nothing, instead slowly breaking out into a grin, trying his best to hide it behind his hand. Georgi looks back and forth at them. “You didn’t know they were texting?”

“In my defense, it sounds like he was just saying his own name.”

Georgi hums in understanding. “That makes more sense. We call Plisetsky ‘Yura’, plus he refers to Yuuri by a nickname, so it’s easy to differentiate.”

“Look!” Phichit says to Yuuri, pointing his hand at Georgi. “Why can’t you be like them?”

“You want me to be like Georgi?”

“Please don’t,” Celestino says. When all three skaters at the table turn to look at him, he puts up his hands in front of him, waving them rapidly. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re an excellent skater, it’s just that Yakov often complains about you.”

Georgi’s mouth drops open, and he looks affronted. “What?! I am Yakov’s best behaving student! Look at who else he has to deal with!”

“He does complain about all of you,” Celestino confesses.

“Exactly! Which one does he talk about the most? It’s Victor, right?”

“Why would it be Victor?” Yuuri asks, turning his head to look at Georgi. 

The dark-haired Russian sighs, placing a firm hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Yuuri, I say this as someone who wants the best for you. Victor is a _mess_. He doesn’t know how to cook, can barely press the buttons to get his laundry and vacuum started, and it’s a surprise he hasn’t accidentally murdered his dog yet.”

“But you complimented him yesterday?”

“I know, but then I spoke with you and you’re so _nice_ , and I don’t want you to stray into the dark side.”

“You know, Nikiforov messaged me once.” Phichit pipes up. 

Celestino groans. “Yes Phichit, we know. You wouldn't stop talking about it for a week.”

“He’s very famous! I wanted the public to be informed!”

“Trust me, anyone within a five-meter radius of you was informed.”

“What did he message you about?” Georgi asks, leaning forward.

Phichit is quick to pull out his phone, scrolling through his messages before turning the screen to face Georgi and Yuuri. “It was weird. He asked if I knew a Yuri. I mean, I know _you_ , Yuuri, but he called them bold, which you aren’t. No offense.”

“None taken. That is strange though.”

Georgi is staring at them with a bewildered look in his eyes, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”

Both Phichit and Yuuri stare blankly at him. Celestino, who had been texting on his phone, looks up at the sudden silence.

“You’re not joking,” he mutters. “Oh, dear.”

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asks.

“Nothing! Wow, would you look at the time? I should go find Yakov.”

Celestino nods, holding his wrist up to squint at his watch. “Our booked time is about to start as well. We need to get going or we’ll be late.”

“You guys go ahead,” Yuuri says. “I’ve got something to do first.”

Celestino gets up from the table, and after a moment’s hesitation, Phichit does as well. Yuuri waves them off, grasping Georgi’s sleeve as he makes to stand as well.

“About Victor,” the Japanese skater says in a low tone. “You—”

“I can’t take it!” Georgi cries. He places his hands around Yuuri’s face, pressing his cheeks. “Listen, Yura might kill me if he learns I told you this, but I have to, for the sake of young love!”

“Georgi, are you okay?”

“I am in love with _Anya_ , not Victor. Victor likes _you_. He’s been pining after you ever since you wrapped your leg around a pole and spun around half-naked.”

“I did _what_?”

“I’m said what I did because Victor really is a walking human disaster, and you don’t deserve to deal with that.”

“Georgi,” Yuuri laughs, slowly peeling Georgi’s hands off his face. “You’re joking, right? Victor doesn’t like me. I barely know him.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Georgi coos. “You’re so sweet. I can’t believe you forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“Gosha? What are you doing?”

Yuuri looks up to see a familiar figure standing in front of them, a stern look on his face. “Coach Yakov! Are you alright? Georgi said you had a headache.”

“He told you what? I’m fine, the last headache I had was at Skate Canada, you were with me.” Yakov turns his stare to the aforementioned skater. “Gosha, what are you trying to do? Get over here, we have practice.”

Georgi pouts, sulking over to Yakov’s side. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Sure you didn’t. Yuuri, I saw your coach outside. You might want to hurry.”

“Right!” Yuuri nods. “Georgi, do you want to meet here at three? To sightsee?”

“Sure! See you then— ow, Yakov, stop tugging my ear! I really didn’t do anything!”

Yakov seems unconvinced, dragging Georgi past a corner and out of sight. Yuuri, both amused and confused by the situation, decides to shove it all in the back of his mind and grab his skate bag, running to catch up with Celestino and Phichit.

“What happened?” Phichit asks, falling behind Celestino to walk side by side with the Japanese skater, who shrugs, shifting his shoulder to rest his bag straps more comfortably on his shoulder.

“Honestly, I don’t even know.”

\- - - -

Phichit glides around a panting Yuuri, dodging when Yuuri reaches out an arm to swat at him. He skates to Celestino, who looks behind him at the Thai skater and shakes his head. 

“Okay, that’s enough for today. Let’s head back.”

Yuuri nods, grabbing his water bottle and downing the rest of the water, shaking the container for any leftover drops. He wipes down his blades, watching as the cold metal draws moisture to its surface once more.

Phichit comes over to sit next to him, his skates placed in his lap as well. “Your short program is so cool, Yuuri!”

Yuuri winces in response. “Can we never talk about my short program ever again?”

“But you haven’t even used it in the Grand Prix yet!”

“Unfortunately.”

Finally, his blades stay dry, and Yuuri slips on his soakers, placing them into his bag before standing up, helping Phichit up as well. “C’mon. We still have to eat lunch.”

“Actually, I have plans…”

“Of course you do.” Yuuri sighs, though his tone is warm. “With Ji?”

“Surprised?”

“I mean, you two have only been talking about meeting up for ages now.”

“You flew to a different country, _multiple times_ , to see your friend. You have no right to speak.”

“Alright you two, knock it off.” Celestino interrupts. “Phichit, go meet your friend. Yuuri, do you mind going back by yourself?”

“It’s fine!”

Phichit ends up walking with him anyway, although they part at the hotel entrance. Yuuri walks in, making his way straight for the elevator and his room. He drops off his skate bag, switching it out for a more modest-sized backpack instead.

By the time he heads back down, Georgi is already waiting for him, his back turned to him. From what Yuuri can hear, he seems to be conversing with someone on the phone in Russian.

He waits for the other skater to hang up before approaching, tapping him on the shoulder. Georgi turns around, a smile on his face. “Yuuri!”

“Hey! Ready to go?”

Georgi nods. “Can a friend join later?”

Yuuri doesn’t hesitate to respond. “Of course! Who is it?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll like him.”

“That’s concerning.”

“Well, he is too!”

“ _That doesn’t make it better._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry for the late chapter, wasn't really feeling well this week, plus I got mad writer's block. That's kind of what I get for not using my brain for half a month, but I'm back in school now, so hopefully, the mental stimulation gets me back on track.
> 
> If someone wants to correct me on the Victor appearance thing, please do! I don't know what people are attracted to. ;-; Bold is Russian btw, in case you forgot. I haven't edited the previous chapters yet, but I did decide to have Yakov just call Yuuri by his first name because I don't know how I would write him evolving from Katsuki to Yuuri. 
> 
> I feel so bad for Georgi. I was looking up diminutive, and Gosha, the one I used, is also the name of a parrot in a children's book (Yuri is totally going to call him Parrot Boy by the way). He could go by Yura, Yuri and Georgi used to be basically the same name, but Yuri came in and was like "I'm Yura" and Georgi probably just agreed (poor Yuri as well, Georgi has a similar name and then Yuuri has a name that sounds like his). His birthday is also right after Victor's, literally the day after (my birthday is after his, so we make a chain! pretty fun). That's also why he's like "oh wait don't date Victor", because in that petty heart we all have he doesn't want Victor to get yet another thing over him.


	21. With Umbrellas Blooming Like Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! We are officially in the 20's now, very exciting. Coincidentally, it's chapter 21, fitting for one of the earliest writings I'll do for 2021. I think Cup of China will happen next chapter, though we might only get to finish the short programs.
> 
> I was rereading some of my old writing a couple days ago, and like, where did I pull these descriptions from? Because I certainly couldn't write like that now. I feel like I made some pact with a demon where I exchanged it for something, but who knows what that is. I do want to write more romance-esc fics, just to see if I could. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Not edited.

They stroll around the busy streets of Shanghai, browsing through stalls but generally keeping to themselves. Yuuri has once again donned his gifted jacket, slipping it over a thick hoodie to protect from the biting cold.

The crowds themselves are small, but there are many, pairs or groups of three littering the streets, filling the air with noise, bits and pieces of separate conversations slipping ahead occasionally.

Georgi rattles off about what he did after he and Yuuri parted, mentioning his own practice and how he “called and had to listen to Victor complain for an hour”. He sulks about like a petulant child, and Yuuri finds himself laughing as Georgi speaks with over the top hand movements and a dramatic tone.

“I’m telling you, Yuuri, he wouldn’t shut up! It’s always, ‘boo, Yuuri won’t talk to me’, or ‘I’m going to die alone’, or ‘Yakov, could we install a pole in the rink’. He doesn’t even know how to use it; all he wants to do is stare at it and reminisce!”

“Why a pole?”

“Exactly! And if anything, there should be a shrine dedicated to Anya instead!”

“Georgi.”

“Too creepy? Perhaps a photo or two, then?”

“What _kind_ of photos?”

“...” Georgi looks away, pulling his hood over his head as Yuuri sighs, crossing his arms.

“I can’t believe you.”

“It wouldn’t have been that bad! Like…” Suddenly, Georgi stops walking, eyes locked onto something ahead of them. 

Yuuri looks up to see Anya and her partner, the two of them wrapped around each other as they share a small slice of cake. Anya delicately slices a portion off, bringing the fork up to the man’s lips as he laughs, his mouth opening by a sliver to eat it.

“Like that.” Georgi sighs, shoulders slumping. He glances at the couple, then back at himself, poking at his skin and tugging his sleeves.

“Look at him.” Gesturing over to Anya’s partner, Georgi takes in a deep breath, scrunching his nose as the sharp air seeps through. “He’s so much better than me. I’m like a stick compared to him.”

“Don’t compare yourself to him.” Yuuri shakes his head. “That never ends up going well.”

“How could I not? He managed to charm Anya when I couldn’t. I’m lacking _something_ , and he clearly has it. The only problem is, what is it?”

“Please don’t change yourself just for her sake.”

“I know, I know. Mila’s gotten on my case about it a million times now.” Georgi finally looks away, turning his head in the complete opposite direction and moving that way, retracing their previous steps. “Come on.”

Yuuri hurries after him, setting his pace to match the Russian’s. They turn left, entering a new section of town. Georgi spots a dimly lit building and makes a beeline for it, dragging Yuuri alongside him.

“Where are we going?”

“Where all heartbroken people go.”

“Their bed?”

“ _The bar_.”

\- - - -

Yuuri watches with concern in his eyes and a panicked feeling rising through his chest as Georgi downs yet another shot of alcohol, cradling the glass before gently placing it down, patting the rim of it.

“There there,” he coos. “It’s okay. Let’s get you refilled again, okay?”

Yuuri’s ears perk up at that, and he’s quick to slide the cup towards himself and away from Georgi. The dark-haired man makes a feeble attempt at getting it back, grabbing at Yuuri’s general direction in slow movements. Eventually, he gives up, dropping his head onto the table where the glass previously stood.

“How am I supposed to skate knowing she’s right there?” he mumbles, rolling his head back and forth on his forehead.

Passing the cup over to the bartender’s hands, Yuuri motions for two glasses of water before turning his attention back to Georgi. “She might not be there, you know, since our scheduled times are different.”

“What if she comes to rub _it_ in my face?”

“It?”

“Her stupid boyfriend, with his stupid face and his stupid hair and his stupid arms that get to hug Anya.”

“I don’t think she cares that much.”

“Yuuri!” Georgi turns his head to the side rapidly, his hair swinging down as well and falling in front of his face.

“Sorry…”

The bartender comes back over with two tall glasses of water balanced on his tray. He places them down in front of Yuuri, then gestures to Georgi, mimicking a phone with his hand. Yuuri waves it off, picking up a glass and placing it above his head, near the middle of the table and where he wouldn’t spill it should he raise his head.

The Russian sighs. In the colored lights, shadows dance across his face in strange patterns, highlighting the dulled brightness in his eyes. “It’s fine. Maybe you’re right.”

“Thank you.”

“Or, maybe I should get plastic surgery to match his face.”

“ _No._ ”

“You’re no fun.” Georgi sulks, though he sits up, grabbing his cup of water and drinking half of it. He swirls the rest of it around, tilting his hand back as if to pour the water out. Yuuri watches with bated breath as drops of water jump up against the glass, just barely below the rim, before sliding back down.

Georgi doesn’t treat this cup with nearly as much care as he did with the shot glass, banging it onto the table with a hard thud. The force sloshes around the water, finally tipping the liquid over the edge and spilling it onto his hand. Georgi blankly stares at his hand before raising it up to his forehead to try and wipe the water off. Yuuri stops him before he can do so, gently grabbing his wrist and leading it back down.

“I’m going to get you some paper towels. _Don’t move._ ” he says, getting up out of his seat. Georgi nods, fingers drawing circles through the small puddle on the counter.

Yuuri hurries, weaving through the crowd to push the bathroom door open. He grabs two or three sheets, holding them to his chest as he makes his way back. Luckily, no one stops him, so he manages to only be gone for a couple of minutes.

By the time he comes back, Georgi has turned away from him, though Yuuri can still see his hands thrumming the counter and splashing water. Getting closer, Yuuri can make out his voice speaking to someone else.

“Georgi?”

Georgi turns around, giving Yuuri a glazed over smile. “Yuuri! You left.”

“I got you something to wipe your hands with.” Yuuri places his paper towels over Georgi’s hands, who gets the message and wipes down the table. 

“I found someone,” he says. “Can we keep them?”

“You didn’t find me, I’m the one who had to trek through town looking for you because you were too out of it to text me.”

Yuuri’s face lights up, and he breaks out into a smile. “Yura!”

Yuri peaks out his head from behind Georgi. “Hi.”

“Isn’t he the cutest?” Georgi wraps an arm around Yuri’s neck, pulling him down and placing a sheet of his paper towels on the top of Yuri’s head, who sputters and shakes it off. “Aw, do you not like your hat?”

“Yakov is going to _murder_ you when he finds out.”

“But I’m heartbroken!”

“Your heart’s going to be _literally_ broken if that’s what you mean.”

Yuuri gestures for Yuri to come over, and the teen complies, giving Georgi another judging look before walking past him. Yuuri smooths down his hair, raking his fingers through the blonde strands until it sits out of his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I wasn’t about to be left with Victor and Mila,” he grumbles, sitting down in Yuuri’s seat at the Japanese man’s insistence. “So I bugged Yakov until he said yes.”

“Yura kicked him until he said yes,” Georgi corrects. Yuri glares at him, picking up the wet, scrunched up paper towel and throwing it in his face.

“Hey!”

“Maybe that will sober you up.” the blonde retorts, coughing. Yuuri hands him his untouched glass of water, but Yuri shakes his head, pressing it back in Yuuri’s hands.

“It’s all the alcohol,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “And of course Parrot Boy decides to order the strongest one. I can still smell it on him.”

“I told you to stop calling me that!”

“What else would I call you? Yura? _I’m_ Yura.”

“I said we could call you Yurochka.” Georgi broods. “It’s a fair compromise!”

“Call me Yurochka and I’ll castrate you in your sleep, then feed it to Victor’s dog.”

Georgi winces, arms wrapping around himself as he hunches away from Yuri. “That’s gruesome!”

“So is having to listen to you mope all day.”

Yuuri pulls over another stool, scooting Yuri’s closer to Georgi. Said man makes a face at the teen, who sticks his tongue back out at him. “No one’s going to do anything gruesome today.”

“That’s what _you_ think.” Yuri mutters, pushing back against Yuuri when he nudges him.

“How did you manage to find us, if Georgi didn’t tell you?” Yuuri asks, recalling their previous conversation.

“We were supposed to meet at the cafe,” Yuri explains. “Go out here, turn right, then walk down to the end of the street? There’s a small restaurant there. I don’t know why he chose this place instead.”

“How could I face her?” Georgi wails, burying his face in his arms. “She was with _it_.”

Yuri side-eyes him before turning back to Yuuri. “I figured he saw Anya or something, so I went around looking for places he could get drunk in.”

“You knew Anya was coming?”

Yuri scoffs, glancing at Georgi once more. He reaches out and flicks his head, huffing as Georgi cries out in surprise. “How could I not? Parrot Boy wouldn’t shut up about it. I asked him where he was, but of course, he’s a lightweight, so all he responded with was _‘where heartbroken people go’_.”

Yuuri nods in understanding. Yuri opens his mouth to say more, but coughs again, trying to clear his throat. This time, when Yuuri offers his water, he doesn’t refuse. He takes a small sip, clearing his throat for a second time before continuing.

“This was the only bar nearby, so I snuck in.”

“They didn’t ask for identification?”

“I look old enough,” Yuri says, straightening his back and puffing out his chest. “Plus, I pretended to not understand what they were saying.”

“Really?” If the colored lights created dancing patterns across Georgi’s face, they softened Yuri’s, pulling out cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. 

“See?” Yuri pushes his hood over his head, covering his eyes with dark shadows, and scowls. Yuuri simply laughs, pulling the hood down and tousling his hair.

“Yes, old indeed.”

Georgi lifts his head, eyes blinking at Yuuri and Yuri. “You look like a kitten.”

“I’ll scratch your eyes out.”

“No thanks.” Wrinkling his nose, Georgi gestures the bartender over and hands him his glass. “Whiskey, please.”

“Absolutely not,” Yuuri cuts in. To the confused bartender, he says. “Water. And another glass, please.”

“Yuuri,” Georgi drawls out. “Let me drink my sorrows away.”

“Coach Yakov would make you do suicides if he knew where you were,” Yuuri replies, firm in his decision. “Do you really want to do that?”

Georgi shrugs, leaning back on the hind legs of his stool. The chair wobbles dangerously, and Yuuri feels like he’s about to have a heart attack.

“Now you know how I feel,” Yuri says to Yuuri, pushing Georgi forward and back onto a proper chair position. Georgi yelps, grabbing the edge of his seat and his rocks back and forth, glowering at Yuri.

“This was you at Sochi.” the teen says, pointing at the dark-haired man across from him. “You were a mess.”

“Let’s _not_ talk about that.” Yuuri grimaces. “Georgi talked about that too. He said something about me seducing Victor?”

Yuri stares at him, mouth slightly parted open as if he was too shocked to properly shut it. Yuuri nervously glances around him, holding his hands up. “What? I thought it was funny.”

“It’s true!” Georgi protests, leaning forward to huff at Yuuri. Without breaking his stare at Yuuri, Yuri, curls his fingers in, creating a loose fist, and punches it on Georgi’s head.

“Ow! Yura, why do you insist on being so violent?”

“It is funny,” Yuri nods, ignoring Georgi’s complaints besides him. “You’re too good for Victor anyway.”

“More like he’s too good for me.”

Shaking his head, Yuri makes to hit Georgi again, pulling his hand away only when Georgi snaps his teeth as if to bite him. “He’s old and an idiot.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Georgi says. Yuri scowls at him, pushing his stool closer to Yuuri’s.

“What else have you been telling him?” the blonde asks. Georgi goes silent, looking away with a sheepish expression on his face.

“I can tell you.” Yuuri offers. 

“No!” Georgi cries, spinning back around. He grabs Yuuri’s hands, trapping Yuri between them. “Yuuri, remember when I said I didn’t want to die? Now is your time to save me! All you have to do is tell Yura _nothing_.”

“Georgi, what did you do?” Yuri growls.

“Nothing!”

“Makkachin’s looking awfully hungry right about now...”

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you! Has anyone ever told you that you’re a scary person?"

“Start speaking, Parrot Boy, or I’ll tell Yakov you blacked out at a bar after downing a bottle of vodka.”

Yuuri looks on as Georgi stumbles through his words, mumbling to try and make himself inaudible to Yuri, who was glaring daggers at him so sharp that they could’ve pierced him. Briefly, he wonders how he managed to get himself into this situation, sitting at a bar in China with an overdramatic man and a minor.

Well, it doesn’t particularly matter. Yuri looks like he’s about to commit a murder, and Georgi is very conveniently sitting in front of them. Yuuri should probably go stop them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Were any of you surprised by Yuri's appearance? I hope not, because there was no way it was going to be Victor, ew. I considered making it Mila just to get introductions out of the way, but I realized I had already used "he" to describe the mysterious stranger, so we'll stick with Yuri. It's probably a good thing I kept him too; I struggled to write the first half, then sped through the rest once he showed up.
> 
> No joke, I forgot how to spell "die". All I could think of was "dye" instead. I had to search it up. My English teacher is quaking, and probably extremely disappointed.
> 
> Autocorrect keeps trying to correct "Georgi" to "Georgia". It makes me very tempted to give him a girlfriend named Georgia who acts exactly like him. It would be funny, but two Georgis might be too much.


	22. Halted Time Starts to Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Happy...Friday. Huh. We'll just, shhh.
> 
> I've got a competition going on, well, right now actually. It started yesterday, and it's been fun, if not extremely nerve-wracking. I might come and add more things, but who knows.
> 
> If you look at the kudos it's at 888. Very nice. The comments were at 666 last week, which was also funny.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I hate all of you,” Yuri declares as they step out of the bar, Georgi and Yuuri on his left and respectively. Thankfully, the sun had begun to set, leaving a warm glow instead of the harsh glare the afternoon sun gave off.

“But—” Georgi starts, only to be stopped by Yuri jabbing the side of his stomach.

“No. Every time you open your mouth, a baby dies.”

“What?! I’ll have you know I am excellent with children!”

“Maybe excellent at making them burst into tears.”

Yuuri sighs, shaking his head as Georgi clutches at his chest, looking affronted. “Yura, I’m sure Georgi does perfectly well with kids.”

“Once, Mila brought an egg to practice,” Yuri says, crossing his arms. “She called it mal'chik-yaytso. Drew it a face with markers and everything.”

“Georgi, what did you do?” Yuuri asks, turning his head to look above Yuri’s head and at the increasingly guilty-looking man. Georgi shakes his head, burying his face in his hands as Yuri grins, wild and smug.

“He sat on it. Mila was devastated.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Georgi bemoans. “Mila refused to talk to me for three days afterward!”

“Yakov made scrambled eggs.”

“Stop bringing up more memories!”

“Gosha, Yura,” a gruff voice says, causing the mentioned skaters to freeze. “You two aren’t causing a scene, are you?”

“Yakov!” Georgi jumps, trying his best to cover his face without looking suspicious. Having not expected Yakov to appear so soon, his appearance was still very disheveled, eyes swollen from constant crying and sleeves damp from spilling water on himself.

“What are you three doing?” Yakov asks, squinting at the trio. “Well, I suppose it was only Gosha.”

“Hey, Yuuri and Yura could have done it too!”

Yakov raises an eyebrow, looking unimpressed at Georgi’s whining. “So you admit you’ve done something.”

“Why are you targeting me?”

“Because you’re the one who looks like you got run over by a tractor.”

Yuri snorts, hiding his laughter behind his sleeve when Yakov turns his glare on him. The blonde steps to the side, making it so that Yuuri is partially standing in front of him.

“Don’t use your friend as a defense against me,” Yakov scolds. “Just tell me where you’ve been.”

The three of them look at each other, silently communicating. Georgi shoots them panicked looks, rapidly shaking his head once Yakov is turned away from him. When he sees that Yuri is unconvinced, he clasps his hands together in a begging motion. At last, Yuri huffs, seemingly agreeing with them.

“It was nothing,” he says. “We just got dinner together. Parrot Boy cried over his ex.”

Both Yuuri and Georgi nod, though Georgi’s shoulders slump at the mention of Anya. Yakov sees this, and he takes pity on them, letting out a resigned sigh. He pats Georgi on the back, leading him towards the hotel’s entrance. Yuuri and Yuri look at each other before trailing after the other two, stepping into the brightly lit lobby.

Georgi tries to head for the elevator, but Yakov is quick to grasp the hood of his jacket, pulling him instead towards an inconspicuous door in the corner. Opening it reveals a set of stairs, steep and lit up by small lamps hanging off the side of the walls.

“I don’t want to climb stairs!” Georgi protests, grabbing onto the railing as Yakov tries to pull him up. “We have technology for a reason!”

“Well, technology wasn’t good enough to save you from _that_.” Yakov gestures to his disheveled state. “So it seems pretty useless to me.”

“You know, stairs are technically a form of technology,” Yuuri adds. Georgi slowly turns his head, eyes wide with an exaggerated upset expression that makes Yuri scoff beside him. Yakov, on the other hand, simply gives a firm nod of approval.

“Yuuri’s right. There’s no excuse now.”

“But—”

“But nothing. It’ll be good for you; you should move your legs more.”

“Excuse you? I skate every day! In fact, I should be on leg rest right now!”

“I wish you’d go on vocal rest,” Yuri murmurs, forcing a chuckle out of Yuuri’s throat. Yakov and Georgi don’t hear him, continuing their argument ahead, if one could even call it an argument. Despite all his boycotting of stairs, Georgi was still climbing them, slowly making his way up.

Yakov rolls his eyes, prying Georgi’s hands from the metal. “Leg rest doesn’t count when your competition is days away. You still have to practice.”

“No, I refuse! Justice will reign supreme, and I will overthrow your cruel empire, destroying its foundation brick by brick! Soon, my kingdom will be restored back to me, and my people prosperous and joyful once more. Nothing can stop me! Nothing at a—”

“Gosha, we’ve made it to our floor.”

Georgi blinks, looking around him. Sure enough, they were at the lobby where Georgi and Yuuri parted yesterday. “Oh.”

A couple of residents linger about, some shooting odd glances at the party of four. Yuuri would be concerned as well if he were in their shoes. 

“Yes, _oh_. Will you three go to bed now?”

“But I haven’t practiced my song yet!” Georgi says.

“Your… song.” Yakov sighs, massaging the sides of his temple. “Do I want to ask?”

“It’s a love song I created in Anya’s name! I wrote it to try and convey all of my feelings for her so that she might understand. Not a day goes by without me missing her, and therefore I must practice every day, till I am skilled enough to show her just how much she means to me.”

“I was wondering why he brought a guitar case with him,” Yuri says to Yuuri, the two of them once again bystanders to the conversation between Georgi and Yakov. “I kind of wish I still didn’t know.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Yuuri replies. “He’s trying his best. This must be a coping mechanism of some sort.”

“Would _you_ like it if someone wrote a song for you?”

“Yura, who doesn’t want a song written about them?”

“Then, what about someone basing their routine on their love for you? And then preceding to make that their entire theme and _never shut up about it._ ”

“That’s a very specific example. Has something happened?”

Yuri shrugs. “I’m just a very specific person.”

“Georgi, you will not be singing this love song of yours tonight!” Yakov says. “It’s almost one!”

“But I need to!” Georgi gives him a pleading look, shaking Yakov’s shoulders as he half sings, half murmurs out garbled Russian. Yakov stares right back at him, unfazed, when suddenly he cringes, shaking his head at the dark-haired Russian in front of him.

Yuri pulls a face, wrinkling his nose at Georgi. “Gross.”

“What did he say?” Yuuri asks. Surely it couldn’t have been that bad. Based on all the senseless ramblings Georgi goes on, the man has the ability to come up with at least decently written poetry.

Yuri frowns, eyebrows drawn together as he takes his time to consider the question. “My jobless heart stomped on like grapes. Step on all of me. No fermentation, not even given the pleasure of liquor? Wine?”

Ah.

“Are you sure he mentioned grapes?” Yuuri questions. Yuri hums a yes, looking both lost and exasperated at Georgi’s lyrics. “Then it would be wine.”

Nodding, Yuri continues. “As fur stands, I stand. Stand green, no longer red, broken clovers trampled by grapes. Bare your feet, let me caress the supple skin of your flesh.”

“Skin of your flesh?”

“That’s what it says.”

“...Well, we all have our bad days.”

Yuri scoffs, nodding his head in the direction of Georgi, who was trying to show Yakov how to play his song via strumming air, playing a fake guitar. “Georgi’s just had a bad life.”

Suddenly, he perks up, looping a finger through a stray band on Yuuri’s jacket. “Want to see my room? Technically it’s mine and Georgi’s.”

“Sure! Do you want to tell Georgi and Coach Yakov?”

“They’ll follow us. Georgi doesn’t want to be left alone, and Yakov’s been pushing for us to sleep anyways.”

Sure enough, once Yuuri and Yuri start making their way out of the lobby, Yakov and Georgi do as well. Georgi now seems to be talking about the creation of a music video, wildly moving his hands about to better explain.

“And we’ll have doves everywhere, and a lion will descend from the sky with an eagle flying overhead!”

“Are you sure you don’t just want a trip to the zoo? Because I can arrange that for you.”

“Yakov, you don’t understand my vision!”

“Trust me, no one does.”

“Victor said he liked it!”

“A correction, then. No one who isn’t a fool struck by Cupid understands you.”

“A fool struck by Cupid! Hey, that’s a pretty good line. You should write a song with me one day.”

“Absolutely not.”

Yuri and Georgi’s room is located at the very end of the hallway, on the right of a large window overlooking the scenery outside. The bustle from the crowd had mostly died out by now, with only a stray person walking about every so often. The street lights were dim, allowing the darkness to seep through the night, contrasted light shining out from inside the other buildings.

Yakov pulls out his card, swiping it on the door handle two rooms away. Before he leaves, he turns to Yuuri, jerking his head at the other two Russians. “Make sure they sleep. You can drug them if you want; I think Gosha should have some sleeping pills on him.”

“Don’t use my own items against me!” Georgi says, pouting. Yakov ignores him, keeping his eyes locked on Yuuri, who nods.

“I’ll try my best.”

“Yuuri, you aren’t going to poison me, are you?” Georgi asks. “I have to practice my song!”

“How would I poison you with your own pills?”

Georgi shrugs. “You tell me. But I won’t let you in if that’s what you’re going to do!”

“ _I’ll_ let him in.” Yuri rolls his eyes, pushing past Georgi to unlock their door. He opens it with the nudge of his shoulder before stepping inside, gesturing for the other two to follow.

The room, for lack of a better word, is a mess. Although built in the same way as Yuuri and Phichit’s, with a bathroom on the right and a small hallway leading to the rest of the room, the organization, or lack thereof, varied greatly. A suitcase, which Yuuri recognizes at Yuri’s, lays open on the bed, a smaller backpack next to it. On the table, there is a palette of eyeshadow, used makeup brushes, a guitar pick, and two bottles of energy drink, one opened and the other still sealed. Georgi’s infamous guitar is leaning on the side of what Yuuri assumes to be his bed, sheets of paper folded and held between two strings.

Georgi immediately goes for his guitar, scooping it up into his arms as he cradles it, cooing in Russian. Yuri huffs, pulling his luggage off the bed and onto the floor. He grabs a set of clothing, holding it up to his chest. 

“Do you see what I have to deal with?” he says, grimacing as Georgi starts to strum his guitar, producing a few notes Yuuri didn’t know could be played with such a sour tone.

“Is he going to stop?” the Japanese skater asks. Yuri nods, hair falling into his face. 

“He usually gives up by the time I finish getting ready for bed.”

“I won’t give up this time!”

“That’s what you always say, and yet I’ve never seen you practice for more than half an hour.”

“That’s because you refuse to visit me!”

“And see your creepy shrines of Anya? No thanks.”

Yuuri laughs, reaching out to tuck the blonde’s hair back behind his ear. “Alright then. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Night, Katsudon.”

“Goodnight Yuuri! Stop by and listen to my song one day!”

“No one wants to hear your screeching,” Yuri grumbles.

“Just because you don’t have taste, Yura, doesn’t mean he doesn’t.”

“My tastes are way better than yours.”

“Says the animal print.”

“Says the hot pink guitar.”

“Pink is the color of young love! And, it matches my style! ”

“That just means your entire style is garbage.”

\- - - -

After a few days of hanging around Georgi and Yuri, Yuuri was both exhilarated and exhausted. Georgi loved going off on tangents, mostly sentimental rambles regarding Anya, and Yuri loved shutting them down just as much. That resulted in an exchange of tiffs, usually with Yuuri acting as a mediator between them. As much fun as they were to watch, it also felt like he was the only peaceful one in their trio of skaters, the other two hyped up on energy that he doesn’t know the origin of.

Nevertheless, Yuuri enjoyed their company. It was certainly better than sitting around doing nothing until the Cup of China started, which is what he had been planning on doing until Georgi came and introduced himself. They even worked on Georgi’s costume together, finalizing details and planning his makeup, which mostly consisted of Yuuri trying to convince Georgi that he didn’t need to get a piercing for his free skate.

Now, it was finally time for the Cup of China. Yuuri had eaten earlier than usual, not wanting to hurl in the middle of his competition, and waited for Celestino and Phichit to finish, his costume already on.

“Yuuri!” Phichit loops an arm around his neck, pulling Yuuri down into a hug. “Ready for your short program?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

Celestino comes up behind them, handing Phichit his forgotten skate bag. “You two will do fine. C’mon, let’s go.”

The stadium is a short cab ride away, leading them straight to the entrance. Celestino checks them in while Yuuri and Phichit head to their dressing room, where they bump into the other skaters already there.

“Guang Guang!” Phichit says, bouncing over to his friend. The Chinese skater beams at him, beckoning him over to where he and Leo de la Iglesia, an American skater, were getting ready.

Yuuri slips into a quiet corner, setting down his bag and pulling out his skates. He laces them up, wrapping the strings around his fingers and tugging tightly, temporarily cutting off circulation. He shakes out his hands, grabbing a comb and tugging at the tangled strands.

“Yuuri!”  


Georgi appears over him, wearing a two-toned blue jacket with red accents. His face is bare, not yet prepped with the dark makeup Yuuri knows he has prepared for his short program. 

“Hey! You feeling good?”

The Russian nods, sitting down next to him. He slips on his own skates before pulling out the eyeshadow palette Yuuri saw laying on the desk in his room. “Yakov said no to the roses.”

“I imagine he did.”

“No one understands my creative vision,” Georgi grumbles. 

“He just doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“It’s poetic!”

Yuuri raises an eyebrow. “Wrapping thorns around your body is poetic?”

“Yes!”

Yuuri is unconvinced, but he lets Georgi ramble about the beauty of pain and love until they get called to draw lots. Fortunately, he isn’t first, pulling out a three. Georgi is fourth, while Phichit gets to be the first to perform.

Warm-up goes smoothly, each skater keeping to themselves in various locations on the rink. Yuuri hangs by the edge, plugging in his earbuds and generally trying his best to ignore the audience. When the shrill bell rings, he’s one of the first to step off, lacing his fingers together and twisting his hands, trying his best to calm the pounding heartbeat threatening to jump out of his throat.

Phichit takes up his starting position, the beginning notes of _Shall We Skate?_ filtering through the speakers. Now, the Cup of China has officially begun.

May the best skater win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> According to the almighty Google Translate, mal'chik-yaytso means egg boy. Rip Egg Boy, gone too soon.
> 
> I was writing a paper a couple of days ago, but my spell-check app doesn't work on my writing software. So, I did what any genius would do, and pasted it into ao3. You could've had a chapter that was just a paper about Latin America if I misclicked.


	23. Tired Of Feeling Never Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! How have you all been? Doing good? Kinda proud, this chapter is 3000 words. Also, I don't think I've mentioned it, but Nathan Chen won the US Championships again a couple of weeks ago. It's his fifth time straight, which hasn't been done in about seventy years.
> 
> My week and last week combined has been a complete mess. I went to school for a solid two days last week, Monday was a break, and the last two days I had my competition. As you can imagine, I missed a lot of things. Then I had a test this Tuesday, so I missed more things. Ended up making up my language test today. But when I tried to submit it, it wouldn't work. I thought I could let the time run out, so my teacher, who already hates my class, and I sat together in silence for three minutes. And it still didn't work. (turns out it was because it wasn't accepting submissions anymore)
> 
> Anyways, enjoy! (and don't skip school)

Yuuri was currently in first place. _First place._

Despite having the urge to throw up both breakfast and dinner, he somehow managed to pull through, performing a decently polished version of In Regards to Love: Eros. No one, Yuri and Yakov included, has pointed out any critical errors in his performance yet, so hopefully, he didn’t mess up too badly.

Immediately after, save for the typical interviews and whatnot, Yuuri all but drops into the armchair in the corner of his room, wrapping a pair of heavy blankets around him and falling asleep. The physical exertion of skating as well as the time he spent worrying adds up and snatches away what little energy he had, leading to his post-competition nap.

Still, he wants to bury himself in his sheets and never leave, hiding away in the comfort of a small, warm space, in everything the ice wasn’t. He knew it was inevitable that he would return-- not only did he still have his free skate, Yuuri lived and died by his time skating--, but it was comforting nevertheless to imagine being able to run away and not have to deal with the roaring crowd, other competitors, and his own nerves.

Once he rations himself out of staying in his room for the rest of the afternoon, he tries to join Celestino and Phichit for practice. Yakov and Georgi are there as well, Celestino having invited the Russians to join them for the day. Yakov takes one look at him and raises an eyebrow, shaking his head.

“You’re better off taking a break. You won’t be able to get anything done.”

Yuuri finds himself disagreeing. If he wasn’t able to hide from his problems, then he was going to ignore them, blissfully throwing himself into practice until he couldn’t think of anything other than how his blades were scraping up against the ice with every turn, spin, and jump. 

As it turns out, Yakov was right. Yuuri manages to go through his free skate routine a couple of times before completely overthinking it, stumbling through jumps and spins he normally found simple. Every tumble and fall only exemplified his sloppiness, blurring his vision and turning his hands numb.

He grits his teeth, ready to try again. Before Yuuri can take off, however, a hand places itself on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. It was Celestino, a concerned look etched upon his face. Yakov wasn’t far away either, standing behind Celestino’s right side.

“Yuuri, maybe you should get some rest. You’re just going to end up bruised if this continues.”

“I have to practice! What if I mess up tomorrow because I wasn’t prepared enough?”

“You’ve been preparing for months now.”

“It’s not enough!” Yuuri insists.

“Well, you aren’t helping yourself by doing this!”

“Yuuri,” Yakov says, his voice deep and soothing in a way that reminds of his grandfather, a friendly man who let Yuuri climb over his lap as a child. “Go find Yura for me, will you? Make sure he’s doing alright.”

Yuuri knows a dismissal when he hears one, knows it’s a thin excuse just to get him to leave, but he nods anyway. He grabs his bag, not bothering to wait for his skates to properly dry before excusing himself and leaving. 

The knocks on Yuri’s door are a welcome grounding presence, stinging his knuckles and making him reconsider coming here. But before he can run away, he hears Yuri’s voice through the door.

“Katsudon, don’t you dare think of moving!”

Startled, Yuuri freezes in place, eyes flickering around the hallway. Yuri appears soon after, hair damp and dripping water onto his shirt, dark spots forming over the cloth.

“Hey.” He looks up at Yuuri’s face, blinking at whatever he saw before tugging on his jacket, leading him inside. 

“How did you know it was me?”

“You’re the only one who knocks like that.”

The blonde sits him down on his bed before disappearing into the bathroom, returning with a blow dryer that he places in Yuuri’s hands. Yuuri takes it, shifting so that he’s sitting criss-cross, his legs off the ground.

“You want me to do it for you?”

Yuri nods, settling down on the floor, his back facing Yuuri. The older man turns on the blow dryer with a simple click, getting to work. The physical sensation of Yuri’s hair in his hand as well as the gentle, warm pressure coming from the blow dryer works to zone out his thoughts. Yuri allows him to work in silence, head slightly bowed.

When Yuuri finishes, he lays the blow dryer on the bed, pulling out an elastic he always seems to have on hand recently and pulling Yuri’s hair into a half-knot.

“There. You know, one day you’re going to have to learn how to do it yourself,” Yuuri teases, lightly tugging on the gathered strands.

“Not when I have you,” Yuri shoots back, pushing himself up and stretching. He grabs his jacket, leopard print with black sleeves, slipping it on. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Since when did you want to go outside?”

“You keep telling me Vitamin D is important.”

“Yes, well, you never listen, do you?”

“Excuse you, I have great hearing.”

“More like _selective_ hearing.”

\- - - -

Yuri leads them around the busy urban streets, occasionally drifting away to look at the stray item that caught his eye, but never straying too far away. He lets Yuuri stay silent, talking about whatever came to his attention first. He never asks Yuuri to explain himself, or even breaches the topic of skating, to which Yuuri is glad. He lets himself get lost in the chatter of the crowd and the sound of Yuri’s voice, even joining in at some points.

“And then Potya tried to scratch Victor, since she has great taste. I gave her a treat that night. Victor tried to steal it, but I threw a pillow to stop him.”

Yuuri nods, eyes scanning the streets in front of them. He switches positions with Yuri as a line of bicycles approach, zipping by them one after another. Suddenly, he locks eyes with a familiar face, sitting by himself at the cafe Yuuri and Georgi were originally meant to meet at.

“Yuuri!” he says, smiling at the two of them. “How have you two been?”

“Zelensky,” Yuuri greets. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too. And Plisetsky! You seem to have grown since I last saw you.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re sitting,” Yuri grumbles, though his tone contains no traces of displeasure. “What are you here for?”

“I’m competing in the International Ballet and Choreography Competition!”

“You guys have competitions?”

Both Yuuri and Zelensky stare at Yuri, who shrugs. “I thought you put on shows.”

“I’ve told you about my dance competitions before.” Yuuri reminds him.

“Yeah, but you were a kid. I didn’t know professionals could compete as well.”

Zelensky nods. “The age cutoff for this is twenty-eight, I think? At any rate, I’m definitely eligible.”

“You aren’t fifty?”

The Ukrainian gasps, pointing his finger at Yuri and shaking it. “I’m twenty-one! And I know I don’t look old, I was mistaken for a teenager at customs!”

Yuuri laughs, guiding Zelensky’s hand back down. “You look fine, Yuri’s messing with you.”

“Am not,” the teen says, though his lips twitch upward as he looks away from the two of them. Suddenly, he perks up, turning to face Zelensky.

“Do you think Lilia knows about those competitions?” he asks.

“Well, I’d have to say yes. I’m pretty sure she’s been a judge at one before.”

Yuri shudders. “Do you think she’d make me participate?”

Zelensky opens his mouth, but pauses, reconsidering. “I want to say no, for your sake, but… well… it’s Madame Baranovskaya.”

“She might make you just to see you lose,” Yuuri adds. Zelensky winces, but nods, giving his silent agreement to Yuuri’s statement.

“Nevermind that,” he says. “Would you two like to get dinner together? The other members of my company went out together, so it’s just me.”

“Of course! What do you think, Yura?”

“Sure. Can we go out of town?”

“Do you want to give Yakov a heart attack?”

Yuri shrugs, waving him off. “He’ll be fine.”

Zelensky gets out of his seat, holding up a pair of keys. Yuuri almost forgot that the Ukrainian was taller than him, and that he practically towered over Yuri. “I have a rental!”

“We’re not actually going through with this, are we?” Yuuri asks.

\- - - -

They went through with it.

After Yuuri heavily urged (forced) Yuri to tell Yakov where he was going, the three of them headed downtown, picking a Russian restaurant tucked in between the entrance to an outlet and a row of vending machines.

“How have you been?” Yuuri asks Zelensky after they get served, seated near the side of the building, a window facing out towards the rest of the street.

“Pretty good! I’ve got an audition after the competition, but our other male soloist retired recently, so hopefully, it should be easy.”

“Is Moron-zov dead?”

Yuuri chokes, batting at Yuri’s chopsticks with his own. “Yura!”

“What?”

“No, not yet.” Zelensky laughs. “Last I heard he got kicked out of his company.”

Yuri nods, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Good.”

Yuuri eyes the blonde, moving vegetables back to his plate when Yuri tries to pass them off to him. “Yura, did you do something?”

“Katsudon, you have too little faith in me.” Yuri huffs. “I did bribe Lilia to go lecture him in front of his company director, though.”

Yuuri sighs, shaking his head while trying his best not to smile. “What am I going to do with you?”

“That was you?” Zelensky says, eyes widening. “Well, thank you Plisetsky!”

“How did you bribe her?” Yuuri asks.

Yuri holds up a spoonful of peas, raising an eyebrow. Yuuri rolls his eyes, but takes the peas anyway, dropping them onto his plate.

“I did only ballet for three days in a row,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “It sucked.”

“You don’t like ballet?”

“I don’t like Lilia’s ballet.” Yuri clarifies. “It’s torture.”

“Madame Baranovskaya does like to scold us.” Zelensky leans in, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. “You know she tried to recruit me?”

Yuuri gasps, holding a hand up to his mouth. “Zelensky, that’s great! What did you say?”

Zelensky flushes, scratching the back of his head. “I’m transferring next year, after this next performance.”

Yuri tilts his head to the side, eyebrows drawn together. His hair falls past his shoulder, dangling dangerously near his food. “What’s so impressive about Lilia?”

“She’s a part of one of the most respected companies within the Slavic countries.” Yuuri reminds him, brushing Yuri’s hair back. “Plus, you know how hard it is to please her.”

Yuri nods. “Congrats, Zelensky. You’re going to be in St. Petersburg?”

“Mhm! I’ll have to learn Russian though.”

“Start with the alphabet,” Yuuri recommends. “It should be easier for you than it was for me.”

“You know Russian?” Yuri asks. When Yuuri starts to reply, he holds up his hand, shaking his head.

“Don’t answer that. Of course, you do. Victor?”

“Victor,” Yuuri confirms, a sheepish tone in his voice. Zelensky laughs, and Yuuri joins soon after, with Yuri scoffing and crossing his arms.

They finish eating relatively early, driving back to town with Yuuri in the front alongside Zelensky. Through the rear-view mirror, Yuuri can spot Yuri leaning his head against the seatbelt, slowly drifting off.

“Do you mind dropping us off at the hotel entrance?” he asks.

Zelensky nods. “It’s no problem!”

He parks in the parking lot, getting out of the car alongside Yuuri, opening the door for Yuuri to catch Yuri, who was leaning against the window.

“Yura,” Yuuri whispers, gently shaking the teen. Yuri slowly blinks awake, rubbing his eyes. He unlocks his seatbelt, sliding out of the car.

“What time is it?” he yawns, checking the time on his phone. “Yakov won’t care where I am for another hour.”

Zelensky laughs, patting Yuri’s shoulder. “Try not to stress your coach out too much, okay? He looks like he’s going bald.”

“He is. But it’s because of Victor, not me.”

“You are definitely a part of it,” Yuuri argues as Zelensky nods. Yuri simply huffs, bumping Yuuri’s shoulder. They walk into the lobby, Yuri scrunching his eyes at the bright lights. This is where Zelensky parts with them.

“It was good to see you two again,” he says, grasping Yuuri’s arm. “Good luck tomorrow!”

“Thank you.” Yuuri smiles. “Good luck to you as well.”

Yuuri and Yuri make their way up floors, heading towards Yuuri’s room. Before heading in, Yuuri hesitates, looking back at a yawning Yuri.

“Are you sure you don’t want to walk you back?”

“I’ll be fine, Katsudon.” Yuri insists. “I’m not going to die via a three-minute walk.”

“If you say so…”

“I do say so. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight! Please don’t stay up tormenting Georgi.”

“...No promises.”

“Of course not.” Yuuri sighs fondly, ruffling the teen’s hair. “Sleep well.”

\- - - -

Yuuri wakes up to a dark sky, Phichit still fast asleep on his left. A look at the digital clock sitting on his nightstand shows that it’s only four in the morning, but it doesn’t look like he’ll be going back to sleep anytime soon.

Reaching for his glasses, Yuuri gets up out of bed, deciding to practice before the free skate. He grabs his bag, writing a note for Phichit, and sending a text to Celestino.

Luckily, the ice rink is open, though the worker gives him a strange look. Yuuri runs through his free skate about twice before stopping, not wanting to tire himself out. He spends the rest of the morning going for a short run, circling the town a couple of times before heading back to his room, where he finds Phichit brushing his teeth.

“Hey! Feeling better?”

Yuuri hums, shrugging. “I’ll be fine.”

They meet up with Celestino in the front of the hotel, the coach handing them both a cup of coffee and an energy bar. “We’re running a bit late, so we’ve got to go.”

The ride there is filled with Phichit chattering about yesterday’s short program, waving his hands around to describe his performance. Yuuri, on the other hand, is curled up in the corner, listening to music and trying to forget where they were headed.

Once they’re back in the stadium, Celestino leaves them to change, making his way towards the bleachers.

“Phichit, you’re going third today,” he says, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “Yuuri, you’ll be last. Good luck to both of you. Do your best.”

“Yes, Coach!”

Yuuri finishes changing first, spending the rest of the time chatting with Georgi, who had arrived before them. The Russian is wearing a light blue costume, a pendant hanging off his neck. He and Yuuri walk to the rink together for warm-up, Georgi stepping onto the ice first.

“Good luck!” he waves before skating off to a separate corner, making a face at Yakov from across the plastic screen.

Yuuri tries to smile, but he can feel himself start to shake, hands trembling despite his best efforts. Warm-up passes in a blur, and somehow he ends up in a quiet corner, left alone with nothing but his thoughts. Which was fine. Just fine.

Look, he was glad to be going last, he really was, but now he has a lot of time to panic and worry and _does he even remember his routine?_

Bringing his knees up to his chest, Yuuri tries to list off all the elements to his free skate. His fingers thread together, twisting them into opposite directions until they ache and sting.

“Salchow, loop, Axel…” he murmurs, feeling his mouth dry up and his throat tighten, choking him from the inside out. “Axel… Axel… What comes after Axel? _What comes after Axel?_ ”

He tries to continue to speak but finds he can’t force the words out of his mouth. Gasping, he clutches his head, wedging it between his knees. He can’t breathe, can’t breathe, _can’t breathe_ \--

He grabs his hair, jerking his hand down as quickly and as forcefully as possible. A strangled breath gets sucked in, and his body starts functioning again, Yuuri sucking in deep breaths of air.

“My sleeves are blue,” he stutters out. “My blades are silver, from Wilson. Grey walls, black shadow. There’s grass outside. My costume is scratchy, the floor’s smooth, hands are sweaty.”

Everything is fine. This is normal, he could get through this. Steady, breath in, breath out, loosen your jaw, unclench your hands.

Taking in a deep breath, he presses on, rubbing his hands but not twisting them. “Epaulettes on my shoulders, there are people chatting outside. I’m speaking, and… there are birds? Chirping birds from the outside.”

He can feel his heart slowly stop pounding throughout his body, settling back into his chest. He pushes himself up, leaning on the wall for support. “Hotel shampoo smelled like chemicals and lotion. The corridor smells like it’s just been cleaned. Like bleach, with lemon. I had an energy bar for breakfast, with chocolate chips. The coffee was bitter, wish I had more sugar.”

Yuuri shakes out his hands, straightening out his costume. He stays in the empty corridor, zoning out in the corner until Celestino comes to find him.

“Yuuri?”

“Huh?” Yuuri breaks his gaze from the window, looking up to see his coach standing at the doorway. “Is it time?”

Celestino nods, beckoning him over. He wraps an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, leading him over to the rink.

“We couldn’t find you for the longest time.”

Yuuri winces. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. As long as you’re alright.”

“I’m… I’ll be fine.”

Celestino frowns, but lets it go, unable to delay Yuuri any further. He nudges him towards the rink entrance, giving him a thumbs up. “Go on then. Make us proud.”

“Yes, Coach.”

Five, four, three, two, one. Yuuri steps onto the rink, feels his blades glide on the smooth ice, the cold air biting at his skin. This was his home, he lived and died on the ice. Now, Yuuri was in his element.

Let’s skate, shall we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Fun fact, the anime sets the Cup of China in Beijing. I put it in Shanghai, because that's where the actual Cup of China in the 2014-2015 season (which is what the Grand Prix in the anime is based on) was held. I'll change it later. Beijing actually works better, because the competition Zelensky is attending is held in Beijing.
> 
> Speaking of, surprise! I missed Zelensky, he's like the only sane character. Plus, I was writing him in something else, so I thought I would include him here too. Morozov is probably dead in a ditch somewhere, because I said so.
> 
> What Yuuri was doing at the end is something to do when you have a panic attack. You list 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste. I personally haven't gone through a panic attack, so if you don't like how I've depicted it, please let me know! I wanted to include it to show that while having other people to help him is very much accepted, Yuuri isn't a "damsel in distress". If he's having one now, he's most likely gone through them before and has techniques to cope and get through it, instead of solely relying on others.
> 
> Wilson is a brand of skate blades, the proper name is John Wilson. A lot of Olympic skaters use them. Oh, another fun fact before we leave, I considered throwing them into a car accident, but ultimately decided to save that for later.


	24. My Friend, My Friend, You Will Laugh One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Will you two cut it out?” Yakov growls. His hands are in the air, and he’s clenching and unclenching them, finger curled in like a claw. “None of you are allowed to come to the next one.”
> 
> “No one’s competing in the next one.” Yuri reminds him. “It’s just the one with the sister complex, the emotionless Korean guy, and a couple of others.”
> 
> “Yura, are you talking about Michele and Seung-gil?” Yuuri asks.
> 
> “I said what I said.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! How have you all been? This was a...interesting chapter, to say the least. I'll get into it at the end, I prefer my beginning notes to be a bit shorter, but wow, it was a doozy (not to read, just to write, so y'all are safe for now).
> 
> No car accidents in this chapter! Enjoy!
> 
> Not edited as well. Fun fact: Today I learned that Yuri's Angels have a canon Twitter username, so I'll be going back and changing that one day.

Yuri… wasn’t the most friendly of people. He knew this. _Everyone_ knew this. It’s not like he cared, so long as he was amicable enough to his competition to skate without any nasty rumors getting thrown behind his back, he was fine.

And then Yuuri came along with his offer of friendship and smiles, and _yeah_ , maybe it was Yuri who initiated their conversation at first but it was only so he could embarrass Yuuri about his drunken stupor, which he ended up _not even remembering._

Their relationship started off with Yuri kicking the door open and yelling at him. So yeah, not very friendly.

The point is, Yuuri is Yuri’s only friend. Sure, there are people he’s friendly with and begrudgingly respects, none of which are his rink mates, but no one has ever stuck by him as Yuuri has. Yuri doesn’t know anything about being friends with someone, he’s just been winging it as he goes (plus, Yuuri was forgiving, _way_ too forgiving in Yuri’s opinion).

So why the hell was he the one being grilled?

“Skater Plisetsky, a few questions!”

The man approaching him was Japanese, dark hair and round eyes tugging at the edge of his brain, familiar only for a second before confusion sets in.

“Sorry, but who are you?”

“Hisashi Morooka,” the reporter says, holding out his hand for Yuri to shake. “We met at Skate Canada.”

Ah. The one Yuuri seems to favor. Apparently, he encouraged Yuuri to continue skating after last year’s Grand Prix, so Yuri has nothing to say against him.

Yuri nods, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his jacket. He’s not wearing anything figure-skating related today, wasn’t even in the stadium, so who knows how they found him. He only hopes that they won’t tip off his fans; as much as he appreciates them, he’s really not in the mood to entertain them right now. Luckily, Morooka seems to be alone, carrying only a handheld voice recorder with him.

“Of course. How can I help you?”

“I’d like to do a quick interview with you if possible.”

Resisting the urge to scoff, Yuri dips his head, gesturing for Morooka to continue.

“Right, let’s start with a bit of conversation, shall we? What are you doing here? You aren’t skating at the Cup of China, are you?”

“I’m not,” Yuri confirms. “I’m here to watch the other skaters.”

“Anyone in particular?”

Yuri hesitates, thinking over his next plan of action. Morooka takes notice and diverts the head of the conversation back to himself. 

“Skater Katsuki perhaps? Maybe Skater Popovich?”

“I guess.”

Morooka bobs his head with enough energy to make Yuri blink and take a small step back. “And if I recall, Skater Katsuki attended Skate Canada to see you, didn’t he? How did you feel?”

_Shock, at the airport. Yuri wasn’t expecting anyone. No one ever came for him, it was always Victor, Victor, Victor. He recalls a burning sensation threatening to overtake his nerves, the same feeling that came through him upon seeing Yuuri standing there, finally a physical presence he could reach out towards._

_That slowly settled into a steady stream of content. Despite all their in-person meetings being surprises, Yuri has never felt more secure with a person other than his grandfather, has never been able to relax and talk and laugh so much. Yuri owed a lot more to Yuuri than he could ever possibly pay back and more than Yuuri could ever know._

_Yuri, ever since he was a toddler, longed to be seen. He thrived off knowing he was the best, off knowing that there was a top he could reach. The Seniors division pushed against that, pushing back with older, stronger, better skaters that made him fall down and want to scream in frustration. But Yuuri didn’t care about being the best. He cared about Yuri, he was proud regardless of where he placed. And maybe, that was what Yuri had been looking for the whole time._

_When they had to part yet again Yuri wanted to cry out, wanted to throw the fits he was so infamous for, if only to keep his friend by his side for a second longer. He didn’t hesitate to ask to go to China with Yakov and Georgi, wearing down his coach until he had no choice but to say yes. Then, and only then would his chest relax, soothed by the knowledge that there would be a next, that he could see Yuuri again soon._

____

____

“Good.” Yuri smiles, small and guarded, but a smile nonetheless. “I’m glad he was there.”

\- - - -

Thankfully, Morooka let him go soon after that, citing that he needed to get back to report on the upcoming free skates. Yuri slips into a quiet cafe, hiding in the far back of the building with his hood pulled over his head. His phone is resting on the table in front of him, screen broadcasting the competition going on only a few kilometers away.

Yuuri was going last today, meaning Yuri had time to order a drink and send a quick text to Victor and Mila before turning his attention back to the competition.

He watches Georgi’s performance with slight interest, rubbing between the grooves of his fingers, partly due to the cold outside and partly because of the agitation bubbling up. When Yuuri comes into view, stepping onto the ice with hunched shoulders and a posture that screams to Yuri that he had been crying beforehand, Yuri laces his fingers together, clenching them in an almost begging position.

The music starts, the same notes Yuri had heard for months now, tunes he knew as well as his own routine’s music. He can almost picture himself skating alongside Yuuri, though definitely without the effortless-looking ease; Yuuri’s stamina was insane and was something Yuri would never have.

He listens in to the sports announcers, a pair consisting of a retired figure skater and hockey player. They were interesting enough, though he doesn’t know how the hockey player managed to get the job in the first place, what with him not knowing anything that’s going on. 

After what feels like the longest three minutes of Yuri’s life, Yuuri comes to a halt, panting. Yuri feels as if he’s the one getting his scores as the camera follows Yuuri and his coach to the kiss and cry, waiting with bated breath as a voice comes through the speakers.

“Skater Katsuki has received a score of 177.43, giving him a total of 284.27. He has placed second overall.”

“He’s certainly made a comeback, hasn’t he? First at the Japanese Regionals, and now second at the Cup of China!”

“I told you he would, but you never believed me.”

“How was I supposed to know you were right?”

“Tremblay, I’m always right.”

At the same time, Yuri’s phone was buzzing nonstop with notifications, all from his messenger app. Victor was of course messaging their group chat, which he was starting to regret joining, with nonstop texts about how “cool Yuuri looked” and “he was so beautiful and I want him to marry me”. Yuri considers throwing his phone across the room before ultimately deciding against it, instead making his way outside and towards the stadium.

They wouldn’t be out for another hour or so, but Yuri could wait at the front, blending in enough with the crowd that no one singled him out.

At long last, Yakov and Georgi step out, the other competitors not far behind. Yuri waves to them, stepping down from the raised stone planter he was standing on the join them.

“Did you cause any trouble?” Yakov asks.

Yuri scoffs. “Who do you think I am?”

“Oh Yura, it was terrible!” Georgi cries, clinging onto Yuri’s arm, the blonde desperately trying to shake him off. “I saw Anya in the stands, but she wasn’t even looking at me! She only had eyes for that boyfriend of hers!”

“That’s probably why they’re dating.”

“Yura!”

“Um, is now a bad time?”

Yuri’s eyes light up, and he finally manages to pry off Georgi, stepping forward to grasp the newcomer’s arms. “Katsudon!”

“Hey.” Yuuri smiles. In the distance, Yuri can spot Chulanont and his coach approaching. “Did you watch?”

“Of course. I knew you could do it.”

“It’s only second place.”

“ _I_ got second place.”

Yuuri huffs, reaching up to ruffle Yuri’s hair, the blonde’s hand still firmly attached to his sleeve. “That you did. We match, then.”

“Congrats, Yuuri! Did you see Anya in the stands? Wasn’t she just so beautiful?”

Yuri groans, turning his head back in order to glare at Georgi. “No one cares about Anya.”

“I do!”

“No one _important_.”

Yakov rubs his hair, looking just about done with his skaters. He puts a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, patting him a couple of times. “Good job out there. Your jumps were smoother than before.”

“Ah, thank you, Coach!” Yuuri says, beaming.

“Did Anya’s skin look smoother? Perhaps she’s changed her moisturizer.” Georgi sighs, burying his face in his hands. “Oh, how I wish I could caress her cheeks once more!”

“That’s creepy.” Yuri states. “You’re creepy.”

“I’m not creepy! I’m just sad.”

“No one said you couldn’t be sad _and_ creepy.”

"Will you two cut it out?” Yakov growls. His hands are in the air, and he’s clenching and unclenching them, finger curled in like a claw. “None of you are allowed to come to the next one.”

“No one’s competing in the next one.” Yuri reminds him. “It’s just the one with the sister complex, the emotionless Korean guy, and a couple of others.”

“Yura, are you talking about Michele and Seung-gil?” Yuuri asks.

“I said what I said.” Yuri shrugs, huffing as Yuuri shakes his head, an unwilling smile creeping onto his face.

“The next one, then.” Yakov tries. “None of you are allowed to go to Trophée de France.”

“See if I care,” Yuri scoffs, pulling a face. “Victor will be there, and anywhere he is I would gladly stay away from.”

“That’s not fair, Yakov! That’s my second qualifier!” Georgi whines, grabbing onto Yakov’s arm and shaking it. “You can’t leave me behind like that!”

“Maybe it would be better for you to do ice dance,” Yakov grumbles, shaking off Georgi’s grip. “I’d be able to give you away to some other coach.”

“If I become an ice dancer you’ll just have to make a great debut as an ice dance coach with me!”

“Could you even become an ice dancer?” Yuri asks. “No one likes you enough to be your partner.”

“Mila would!”

“You are not dragging Mila into whatever this situation is, Gosha!” Yakov scolds, rubbing the sides of his head. 

“But she volunteered! Don’t you want me to pursue my dreams?”

“The only reason you’re pursuing this is to try and get back at Anya and her boyfriend. You hate pair skating.”

Yuuri lifts his head at that, tilting it towards Georgi. “You do? I thought you’d like it.”

“Because of all the romance bullshit he spouts?” Yuri asks. Yuuri laughs hesitantly, fiddling with Yuri’s jacket, brushing off stray pieces of whatever he saw.

“I wouldn’t put it like _that_ , but yeah…”

“I like watching other pair skates,” Georgi explains. “It’s just that whenever I try, no one wants to follow my creative vision!”

“That’s because they all have at least an ounce of common sense.” Yuri shoots back, watching with delight as Georgi’s shoulders slump and he hangs his head down low with an over-exaggerated movement.

“No one understands me!”

“I’m glad you figured that out.”

Yakov sighs once more, at this point not even trying to stop them. Yuri feels no sympathy; this was the man who forced him to dress up and host interviews for hours on end, sometimes even with his rink mates, who would chatter nonstop and make them last _forever_. Serves him right.

“Doing alright, Yakov?” a new voice asks, wrapped with an Italian accent.

Yuuri’s coach and Chulanont appear, Chulanont waving to the group as they draw near. “Hi!”

Yakov waves him off“I’m fine, Cialdini. Congrats on your wins.”

“Thank you. They’ve certainly improved from last season.”

The Russian coach nods before turning to his skaters, one of which was still slumped down and the other behind Yuuri, who had turned around to greet his coach. “Gosha, Yura, introduce yourselves to Coach Celestino.”

“What? Why?”

Georgi raises himself up, sticking his hand out. Celestino clasps it, and they shake hands quickly. “My name is Georgi Popovich. It’s nice to meet you!”

He then gestures over to Yuri. “This is Yuri. Well, our Yuri. Behind your Yuuri.”

“I can introduce myself, you know.” Yuri snaps.

“Well, are you going to?”

Yuri huffs, stepping out from behind Yuuri. He doesn’t hold out his hand to shake; instead, he dips his head in greeting, back and posture straight. “Yuri Plisetsky. It’s nice to meet you.”

Celestino nods back. “This is Phichit Chulanont, and of course you already know Yuuri.”

“Hi!” the Thai skater says. “You’re Yuuri’s friend, aren’t you? The one he sends his routines to?”

“That’s me.”

“I follow you on Instagram!”

Yuri’s eyes light up, and he steps forward in order to be closer to Chulanont, pulling out his phone. “Really? What’s your username?”

“He’s doing it again.” Georgi murmurs. “Yura’s such a social media freak.”

“At least he’s making friends?” Yuuri offers, watching as Yuri and Chulanont exchange contact info, vowing to update each other on social media. “It seems good for him.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“What could go wrong?”

Georgi opens his mouth, but before any words could pass through, Chulanont makes a big sound, throwing his arms into the air and nearly hitting Celestino.

“ _That._ ”

\- - - -

Everything was packed and ready to go. Yuri sits in the lobby, scrolling through his phone. Suddenly, a piece of cloth gets draped over his head, mussing up his hair and covering his phone.

Sputtering, he reaches up and pulls it into his laugh, only to discover that it was his leopard-print jacket. In front of him, Yuuri can be seen laughing, his suitcase standing behind me.

“You missed something,” he teases, stealing the jacket and folding it neatly before giving it back to Yuri. “What if you lost it?”

“I’d blame it on Victor,” Yuri replies, scooting over so Yuuri can sit down beside him. “He’d let me; he never remembers anything.”

“Why not?”

“I think he was dropped on his head as a child.”

“Yura!”

“You asked.”

Yuuri sighs, settling back into his seat. “I suppose I did. My bad, next time I know to never ask you anything.”

“Obviously.” Yuri shifts closer, wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s neck before holding up his phone, the camera app already pulled up. “Here, smile.”

Yuuri laughs as the camera goes off, eyes pushed up into crescents by his grin. Yuri lets go of him to scroll through his photos, nodding in approval and selecting a few to post.

“What should I title it?” he asks, leaning against Yuuri’s left side. The Japanese skater shifts, adjusting his posture so that both of them are sitting comfortably, pressed together.

“Something to do with the Cup of China maybe? Or Rostelecom, since we’re both participating in that,” Yuuri suggests.

Yuri groans, tipping his head back. “Rostelecom is so far away.”

“It’s only two and a half weeks.”

“That’s too much.”

“Yura,” Yuuri says, tone fond. “I’ll miss you too.”

Yuri huffs, pulling on his hood in order to hide his expression. “Don’t think I’m going easy on you, though.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Let’s do our best!”

“Let’s kick JJ’s face into the mud.”

“ _No!_ ”

From the inside of his pocket, Yuri’s phone was silently blowing up with notifications. They came from a simple picture of two friends smiling at the camera, one with his arm wrapped around the other.

_@Yuuri-Katsuki placed, of course. See you in Moscow, JJ is going to get crushed twice over._

Bonus:

 **Jjleroy!15:** Tag me next time!

一一一一一一 _view replies (3)_

**Yuri-Plisetsky:** And acknowledge your presence?

**Jjleroy!15:** That’s the JJ style!

**Yuri-Plisetsky** no

 **v-nikiforov** That looks fun! Why couldn’t I come to China as well?

一一一一一一 _view reply_

**Yuri-Plisetsky:** Get off my page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! At first, this was going to be from Victor's perspective, but I am not aptly prepared for that, so we have Yuri instead. It works out in the end, and I get to use Yuri's perspective more, which I haven't done in a while. Plus, this is a story about the Yu(u)ris, so it seems fitting all the chapters are from their perspectives only.
> 
> Speaking of, we started watching this movie named Glory in class as I was writing this, and I thought it was appropriate. It's not a figure skating movie by any means, it's about the American Civil War, but at least the name fit. Fun fact, this chapter took me like 3 days to write, writer's block hit _hard_.
> 
> I wanted Yuuri to change his last quad into a quad Salchow, to parallel the flip he did in the show, but he already has a Salchow, and I was not about to mess with his routine. By the way, the score I gave him is completely made up; I estimated what his final score would be based on the scores of 1st and 3rd as well as his short program score.
> 
> The day is currently November 9th, and each qualifier has a 5-day break in between before lasting for 2 days. We were following the 2014-2015 Grand Prix schedule, but the show only follows it till this one, and then the order for the competitions are different. But, we're still going to use their schedule, just swapping out the qualifier order. The Finale is actually 11 days after the last qualifier, I don't know why.
> 
> I was going to have Yuri say, "Say cheese" when they were taking pictures, but that's a very English thing. Like, in Chinese they say "eggplant" instead. So I don't know if it would automatically pop into his mind to use "cheese".
> 
> Ao3 won't acknowledge my use of tabs, but the replies are supposed to be tabbed. I tried just spacing them out, but they don't register that either, so we'll just pretend.


	25. What Have I Missed When I Was Offline?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Happy Lunar New Year! Sorry this was posted a bit later, I was celebrating with my family. 
> 
> Another texting chapter! I was going to wait till Rostelecom, but it seems we have enough stuff to talk about! Plus, this allows me to retcon some things, ehehe... Enjoy!
> 
> No car accidents...
> 
> Not edited.

**Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
YURI GOT SECOND!!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Congratulations to _@yuri-plisetsky_ on his amazing performance at Skate Canada!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
AHHHH!!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Are you alright?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I’m at work right now and everyone’s looking at me funny but it’s okay.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Wow.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I know. BUT YURI BEAT JJ!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
That’s true! All his talk was for nothing, I guess. I’m excited for Rostelecom!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Me too! Speaking of…

 **2 Yu(u)ri’s, 1 account @Kat+Pli_FC**  
Hi!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
You made us an account? Hi!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I’ll DM you the password.

 **2 Yu(u)ri’s, 1 account @Kat+Pli_FC**  
This is so cool!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Right?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
We’re going to have so much fun at Rostelecom!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Forget Rostelecom, we’re going to have fun now. Let’s spy on JJ’s fan club.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
And Victor’s?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Do we have to? They’re scary, and big, and loud, and did I mention scary?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I mean… you aren’t wrong.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I just know they’re gloating about his win. “Wow, Victor’s so handsome and cool and no other skater could THINK of matching his talent”.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
...

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
They are, aren’t they.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yeah, they are.

\- - - -

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
What happened?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
YURI FOLLOWED US!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
WHAT? IT’S ONLY BEEN A DAY!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I KNOW!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
HOW DID HE FIND US??

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Yuri lives on social media, he probably saw it when it was made.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Wait… does that mean he sees the things we say about him?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
...

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
...

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
@/yuri_plisetsky, on the behalf of the internet, I kindly apologize for whatever we have done to wrong you in the past that you may or may not have seen.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
^^

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
NO WAY! Yuuri just followed us too!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Really?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
He did! This is officially the best day of my life. I can die happy now.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Wouldn’t it be better to wait till they win the Grand Prix Final?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Ugh, I love how you’re always correct.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Thanks, I grew it myself.

 **JJ Girls @JJ_Girls**  
Please, we all know Plisetsky’s placement was just a fluke.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I’m sorry, what kind of monstrosity did I just read?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Maybe they don’t know how to write.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
That must be it. You’re a genius.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I try.

 **JJ Girls @JJ_Girls**  
JJ said so himself!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
He said WHAT?

 **JJ Girls @JJ_Girls**  
In his interview? Did you guys not watch his post Skate Canada interview?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
What reason would @Yuri_angels have to watch it?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Yeah, why would we watch JJ’s interview? Did you see Yuri’s? With Yuuri? It was literally the best thing to come out of Skate Canada (other than Yuri’s metal, we love that too).

 **JJ Girls @JJ_Girls**  
“Skater Leroy, how do you feel about being beat by Skater Nikiforov and Skater Plisetsky?”  
“Well, Victor’s to be expected, he is the Living Legend after all! Little Yuri surprised me, but I’m sure it was just a fluke. I’ll come back stronger next time, that’s just the JJ style! Silver medals are always mine, after all.”

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
tHaT’s JuSt tHe JJ sTyLe

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
LoOk At mE, I LiKe tO BuLLy TeEnAgErS

 **JJ Girls @JJ_Girls**  
You guys aren’t funny. 

**Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
You’re right.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
We’re hilarious.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Who does he think he is? Does he think he’s automatically privy to second? Grow up, this is a competition.

 **JJ Girls @JJ_Girls**  
That’s just the way he thinks!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
And? Your point is?

 **JJ Girls @JJ_Girls**  
He can’t help it!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Maybe he couldn’t help it, but he could certainly try. And he most definitely didn’t have to say it out loud, to thousands of people who hang onto every word he says.

 **JJ Girls @JJ_Girls**  
Your precious Yuri has done the same.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
He really hasn’t. He may have boasted about his own skills and said he’s going to beat everyone, but he’s never waved it off when someone places above him. He respects his fellow skater, which is more than I can say for JJ.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Forget it. It’s not worth arguing with them.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Yeah, let’s not discuss this anymore. It’s ruining our happy atmosphere.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Mhm, we should be celebrating Yuri’s win!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
You’re so nice.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I just can’t argue; I never took debate in high school.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Really? Consider yourself lucky. Debate was a mess, at least when I was in school. The judges were always so biased and just picked whoever they liked, even if their argument was completely unfounded.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Like JJ?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Kinda. Think with more false chivalry and formal wear.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Ew.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Exactly.

\- - - -

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Question.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Possible answer.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
What airline would you recommend?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Ooh, looking to book tickets for Rostelecom?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Guilty as charged. I wanted to get ready early, since it would be a bit more expensive later on. I’m not trying to add more to my debt, I’ve already got tuition bills to pay.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Aww, you’re a student? You’re so young.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Excuse you, I’ll have you know I’m allowed to drive, smoke, AND drink. I’m practically a wise elder.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Please don’t do all at once.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I would never… again.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I can’t believe you.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Whoops. At least I’m alive?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
...If you want the best plane ride, try Division Airlines. Their tickets are a bit pricey, though. Northeast Airlines is pretty good too. My company usually books us on those when we fly out for events or meetings, and I haven’t had a bad experience so far. Plus, they don’t assign you a specific seat

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
That sounds like a mess.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
It is, but only sometimes. Business-class is the way to go if you can’t stand being near people; it’s not as pricey as first-class but not as cramped as economy. Whatever you do, make sure your plane isn’t a Koenig 848-600.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Will do!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Uh, a lot of the cheaper flights are Koenigs. When you say make sure your plane isn’t one, how sure do I have to be?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
That specific plane model keeps crashing. 

**Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Ah. I think I’ll look into alternate options, then.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
You do that.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
That warning goes for anyone else booking flights for the Grand Prix! Stay safe and don’t get into a crashing plane!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I mean, some of you can.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Like who?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
That’s for me and my voodoo dolls to know and you to never find out.

\- - - -

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
UM.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Um?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I was watching the Cup of China, right?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Right, Yuuri’s competing in that, isn’t he? It’s his first qualifier, yes?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yup! The thing is, before warm-up you can see him talking to someone.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
More friends? Who is it? Phichit Chulanont? Emil Nekola? Michele Crispino?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Georgi Popovich.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Say sike right now.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I’m not joking! Here, I’ll link it.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
They’re really getting along.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Right? Yuuri’s making his way through Yakov Feltsman’s team.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Have Yuuri and Victor met yet?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Hmm, technically? Victor was at Skate Canada, but I bet Yuuri didn’t talk to him. You know, with the whole childhood idol thing as well as Yuuri’s general nervousness?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
That makes sense. Plus, I feel like Yuri would totally flip out if Victor and Yuuri met.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Totally! I honestly wouldn’t blame him if he did. I mean, Yuuri’s basically the only person we know who is friends with Yuri. If my only friend went and got snatched by this hot shot guy who everyone thinks is better than me, I’d poison him. The other guy, that is, not my friend.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
It is petty, but like, an understandable sort of petty.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I love being petty.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Right? I was such a petty person as a kid. I still am now, but geez, you did not want to get on my bad side in high school.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
You sound scary.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I made croissants today.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Did I say scary? I meant totally awesome, very very kind, please feed me.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
You’ll just have to wait till Rostelecom!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
That’s ages away.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Patience is a virtue.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Patience is bullshit.

\- - - -  
**Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Congrats to _@yuuri_katsuki_ for getting the highest score in the short programs! Keep up that energy!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Yay! Congrats Yuuri! You got this!

 **2 Yu(u)ri’s, 1 account @Kat+Pli_FC**  
Congrats to our dear _@yuuri_katsuki_ for getting first on the short programs! If you only follow Yuri, go check out Yuuri too! He’s currently skating in the Cup of China!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I love this joint account.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Right?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
It’s so cool, and what other skaters do you know have a joint account solely based on their relationship?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Well, there are always those shippers.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
...I hate to say it, but you’re right. At least for some of them, the skaters have met each other.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
But not us! We have plenty of proof that our Yu(u)ris enjoy each other’s presence.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Right, our alliance is based on solid, cold, hard, fa

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Sorry, this was more important than finishing that message. Um, _@Yuri_angels_?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
What’s up?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Are you aware that Victor Nikiforov is following our Yu(u)ri account?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Am I aware of WHAT now?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
You’re right. Why are you right. HOW are you RIGHT??

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I DON’T KNOW!!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
WHAT DO WE DO??

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
DO YOU THINK HE’S GOING TO SNITCH ON US?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
TO WHO?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I DUNNO, FELTSMAN? WHAT IF FELTSMAN COMES AFTER US?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
No, surely not. Feltsman has no reason to come after us, right? I mean, all we’ve done is create an account closely connecting Yuri to a Japanese skater he probably had never heard of until very recently...

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
THAT ISN’T HELPFUL!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
YEAH, I REALIZE THAT NOW!

 **Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov**  
Don’t worry, Yakov doesn’t mind!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I-- Hi? (Are we allowed to talk to him?)

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
(I don’t know? This feels illegal?)

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
(We can’t just ignore him! Yuuri would be so disappointed if we ignored Victor Nikiforov.)

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
(Yuri would be disappointed if we didn’t ignore Victor Nikiforov.)

 **Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov**  
You guys know I can still read this, right?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
(So, do I talk to him?)

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
(No, I refuse to leave you alone. I don’t trust him.)

 **Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov**  
Hey! I’m very good with kids!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Not a kid, Mister Nikiforov.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
(Why are you calling him mister?)

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
(I don’t know!! I thought I would be formal!)

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
(This is why I can’t leave you alone with him!)

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
(What do we do?)

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
(I have an idea…)

 **2 Yu(u)ri’s, 1 account @Kat+Pli_FC**  
Hello Mister Nikiforov.

 **Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov**  
Hi!

 **2 Yu(u)ri’s, 1 account @Kat+Pli_FC**  
Not to be rude, but why did you follow us?

 **Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov**  
Well, I thought it would be nice to observe the fans of my rink mates, and you (two?) seem to be big fans of Yuri. I mean, this is one of his official fan accounts after all.

 **2 Yu(u)ri’s, 1 account @Kat+Pli_FC**  
You flatter us. 

**Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov**  
Yup! Just pretend I’m not here.

 **2 Yu(u)ri’s, 1 account @Kat+Pli_FC**  
Actually, since you are… We need you to do us a favor.

 **Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov**  
Oh? How can I help?

 **2 Yu(u)ri’s, 1 account @Kat+Pli_FC**  
We’ll private message you.

\- - - -

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
So, I heard Plisetsky and Katsuki got a joint account.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
And? What of it?

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
Nothing. It figures a wannabe Victor and an overhyped Victor fanboy would be friends. I guess losers are just drawn to each other.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
What do you get out of this? You think this is going to get Victor to notice you or something?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Speaking of… we should enact our plan right about now.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
You think he’s up for it? It’s only been a couple of hours.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
He’s going to be up for it, whether he likes it or not. I’m sick of this guy popping up on my timeline.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yeah, it’s kind of annoying.

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
It’s not my fault you guys are so sensitive. Grow up.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
It’s called basic human decency. You’re insulting those who have done nothing wrong to you.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
How have the other mods not kicked you out yet?

 **Pumpkin Scotch @jade-sicgfy-13**  
Sorry, we’ve been trying to, but he locked us out. Changed the account email and everything.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Oh no…

 **Pumpkin Scotch @jade-sicgfy-13**  
You can say that again. 

**Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
They’re public figures. If they don’t even know how to skate, they don’t deserve what they have.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
They’re people first. And I know they can skate better than you. This is an international competition. It’s considered the second most important competition by the ISU. Plus, Yuuri won his regionals by a landslide. What can you do, glide around the ice without falling down?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Forget it. I really hope this slaps some sense into you, or I don’t know what will.

\- - - -

 **Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov**  
It’s recently come to my attention that some of my fans have been harassing other skaters. This is not okay. While I appreciate everyone’s support, you aren’t supporting me by putting down other skaters, you just make me look bad. I’m asking you all to stop now.

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
Victor! I’m such a big fan! You have to come visit me, alright? I’ll be really sad if you don’t, and then something bad might happen.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I can’t believe this.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
All I wanted to do was to watch the Cup of China in peace. Is that too much to ask for?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I’m going to go stress bake.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I’m going to bang my head on a table and hope I’m dreaming.

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
You guys don’t have to be so dramatic all the time. Get over it already.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Who said I was being dramatic? I’ve gone through two bags of flour thanks to you.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
_@v-nikiforov_ , you going to do the thing or not?

 **Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov**  
Sorry! _@OfficialNikiforovFC_ , or at least whoever is using that account, stop bullying Katsuki and Plisetsky.

 **Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
But, but I did it just for you! I love you! Everything was for you.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I think I’m going to puke.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Ditto.

 **Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov**  
If it was really for me, you wouldn’t be so cruel. 

**Living Legend Lovers @OfficialNikiforovFC**  
It’s just the truth! 

**Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov**  
No, it’s you putting down others to try and make me look better. It’s not working. It’s not cute. It won’t make me pay attention to you. Stop before I report your account.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
You know, Victor might not be so bad after all.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
He’s still a homewrecker though, right?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Definitely. But a nice one.

\- - - -

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
YUURI GOT SECOND PLACE AT CUP OF CHINA!!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
HE AND YURI MATCH!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
THAT’S SO CUTE WHAT—

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
This is amazing. Everything about this is amazing. It’s a shame they can’t match at Rostelecom.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
But they get to skate together, which is even better!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
That’s true! I’m so hyped; just two more qualifiers before Rostelecom!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Once again, a huge congratulations to _@yuuri_katsuki_ for an awesome Grand Prix comeback!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
We look forward to seeing your future performances!

 **2 Yu(u)ri’s, 1 account @Kat+Pli_FC**  
:)) If you didn’t know, _@yuuri_katsuki_ placed second in the Cup of China! Congratulations! His next qualifier is the Rostelecom Cup from November 28-30. That’s also when Yuri’s second qualifier is!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
I’m looking through all the interviews and they’re so cool! It’s fascinating to hear them talk about the other skaters without indirectly or directly insulting.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Gee, who would ever do something like that? That sounds horrible.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Must be some guy with an overinflated ego.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
And stupid hand logos.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
How could I forget the stupid hand logos?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
AHH!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
What? What’s wrong? Is there a spider in your house again? You know you don’t need to scream.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
I told you that in confidentiality!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
My bad. (Did you kill the spider?)

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Look! Mooroka just released an interview!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Ooh, with who?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Look for yourself.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Is that Yuri Plisetsky I hear?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yes!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
He went to the Cup of China? To see Yuuri? Ugh, I NEED a friendship like theirs. Please, I’ll even pay for 2-day shipping.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Why wouldn’t he be in the stadiums?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
My guess is that it’s because Georgi, and then by proxy, Feltsman is there. He probably doesn’t want to be seen with them. Since Celestino wasn’t at Skate Canada, Yuri probably just dragged Yuuri along and Yakov went with it.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
You’re probably right. They met each other again!

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
That means they’ve attended all of each other’s competitions, plus there’s Rostelecom!

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
That’s so cute, I love this.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
No way, there are already articles written about it! Aw, Lemniskate published such a sweet article on it. 

**Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Who wrote it?

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Uh, some guy named Liam Tremblay.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Ah, that means it was actually Elijah who wrote it. 

**Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Who now?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Elijah Campbell. He usually writes all the articles on Yuuri Katsuki for Lemniskate.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Is Liam a pen name then?

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
No, Liam’s just lazy. _@Lemniskate_ , did Liam actually write that article on Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuri Katsuki?

 **Lemniskate @Lemniskate**  
Nope. That was all Eli! -Janice

 **Lemniskate @Lemniskate**  
Liam would like me to tell you that he did in fact still write it. -Still Janice

 **Lemniskate @Lemniskate**  
Nevermind, I’ve just been informed that he edited it instead of writing it. -Janice, with Eli’s input

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
Wow.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Yeah, Elijah is a big Yuuri Katsuki fan. You should follow them! Their articles are pretty funny, and they usually manage to sum up most of the recent news in a couple of pages.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
That sounds cool! I’ve been following FSPN, but if this is skating focused I’ll try it out! I’m sick of getting notifications about football when all I want to know about is skating.

 **Katsuki_FC @KatsukiEng**  
Sounds terrible.

 **Yuri’s Angels @Yuri_angels**  
It is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I've been meaning to ask the general public on this for some time now, and writing this reminded me of it: Are you guys all good on the commentators? Because I know when authors throw dialogue after dialogue, it gets a bit confusing. If you ever see a random name thrown in and think it's strange to be placed there, I actually did that so if you lost your place you could just go back there instead of all the way to the beginning. Kinda like a checkpoint. So yeah, if you guys are confused let me know and I'll try my best to fix it!
> 
> Victor has already followed them on his alternate account if you're curious. He just chose to follow on his main as well because, well, it's Victor.
> 
> I was finishing this up while listening to my lecture, right? The name Jean-Jacques popped up. Given, it wasn't JJ Leroy, but I thought it was fitting nonetheless.
> 
> Lemniskate is based on the lemniscate shape, but with skate because they figure skate. A lemniscate is actually a figure eight, so it's fitting. The whole shape name turned news website name is actually based off Polygon, which is a gaming website. I thought it was pretty clever!


	26. If We Go After It, We'll Be Able To Gain Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit huffs, rattling the plastic packet in his hand. “Yeah Yuuri, I know that! She’s not _our_ rink mate, she’s—”
> 
> Suddenly, he stops in the middle of his sentence, taking in a breath. “Oh. _Oh_. Now I see— yup, mhm, _okay_.”
> 
> “What’s wrong?”
> 
> “Nothing! Nothing at all! Everything’s fine, running as it should be. Here,” Phichit stuffs a slice of mango into Yuuri’s mouth, preventing him from speaking. “Eat some food, you look like a stick. I got to go now, okay? See you soon!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Welcome to the chapter that is my nightmare! Why, you may ask? Two main things: names, and people.
> 
> I actually finished this a couple days ago, but ahaha, my power's been out since Monday. To be fair, that's the main reason why I got to finish this chapter so soon, since school's been canceled.
> 
> New character introduction, kinda? You'll see. Enjoy!
> 
> No car accidents. :))
> 
> Not edited.

It feels good to be able to collapse in his own bed after weeks of traveling, albeit in a rental home. A full lease seemed ridiculous since Yuuri still doesn’t know what he wants to do after the Grand Prix circuit. Of course, he plans on continuing to skate and even possibly competing in Worlds, but recently, thoughts have been running all throughout his mind. Specifically, what Yuri had said way back when he had to email Celestino.

His coach was nice and all, and had certainly helped Yuuri improve by leaps and bounds, taking him in when Yuuri was still a teenager, but recently, something had felt stagnant, like someone had pressed a pause button on Yuuri’s development. It was partially why he stopped skating, and why Yuri’s appearance was so important to him. Yuuri had genuinely felt like there was nothing left for him, that he had reached his peak in skating and had nothing left to offer.

Well, that didn’t matter now. Yuri had managed to lift Yuuri out of his hole, pulling and dragging and fighting against Yuuri’s own self-esteem just to help him. He felt good now, much better in comparison to the shadow version of himself at the beginning of the season. Besides, there were still months till the end of the Grand Prix, and no sensible skater would switch coaches in the middle of a competition.

Satisfied, Yuuri pushes those thoughts aside, burying himself deeper into his pile of blankets. He half-consciously scrolls through his phone, only blinking awake when it buzzes with a message from someone new.

_ Unknown: hey, is this yuuri katsuki? _

_Yuuri: That’s me._

_Yuuri: Who are you?_

_ Unknown: i’m mila! yura’s rink mate? _

_Yuuri: Mila Babicheva?_

_ Unknown: hey! _

_Yuuri: How did you get my number?_

_ Unknown: i asked your friend phichit. he was more than happy to provide, something about you collecting russian skaters? _

Yuuri sighs, sitting up and resting his back on the bed frame. At least he now had a reason to be grateful for Phichit coming over to raid his fridge daily. “Phichit!”

The Thai skater pops his head past the doorway, craning his next to look at Yuuri. In his hand was a packet of dried mangos, specifically the bag Yuuri had bought at the airport yesterday. “Yes?”

Yuuri hands him his phone, watching on carefully as Phichit scrolls through his message history. “Would you like to explain why Mila Babicheva has my phone number?”

Phichit hums, opening the bag and pulling out a slice of mango, offering it to Yuuri, who shakes his head. Shrugging, he takes it for himself, biting off the top. “She asked.”

“So we just give random people our numbers now?”

“She’s not random!” Phichit protests. “Sara can vouch for her! Plus, I thought you might want to interact with her, you know, so you can get to know your rink mates better.”

“Phichit, she trains in Russia.”

“And?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but you and I are currently in the United States, training in Detroit. Babicheva isn’t one of our rink mates.”

Phichit huffs, rattling the plastic packet in his hand. “Yeah Yuuri, I know that! She’s not _our_ rink mate, she’s—”

Suddenly, he stops in the middle of his sentence, taking in a breath. “Oh. _Oh_. Now I see— yup, mhm, _okay_.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all! Everything’s fine, running as it should be. Here,” Phichit stuffs a slice of mango into Yuuri’s mouth, preventing him from speaking. “Eat some food, you look like a stick. I got to go now, okay? See you soon!”

He disappears before Yuuri can stop him, taking with him both clarity on this situation and Yuuri’s food. Yuuri decides now is probably the best time to make lunch, mainly to check what he still had left after Phichit’s raid. A buzz from his phone reminds him that he was in the middle of a conversation.

_ Mila Babicheva: hello? _

_Yuuri: Sorry! I was asking Phichit about you._

_ Mila Babicheva: i see. well, no need to worry! i just wanted to know a bit more about you. _

_Yuuri: Really? Why?_

_ Mila Babicheva: well, you are yura’s friend. plus, we may get to meet very soon! _

_Yuuri: Oh, are you competing in Rostelecom as well?_

_ Mila Babicheva: what? _

_Yuuri: What? Or Barcelona, but I don’t know if I could qualify._

_ Mila Babicheva: oh yuuri… you’re so cute. _

_Yuuri: Um, thank you, I think?_

_ Mila Babicheva: of course! i was watching your short program, and you’re very impressive! no wonder yakov’s taken a liking to you. well, there’s also the fact that georgi and victor and yuri are a mess. _

_ Mila Babicheva: i’m the only sensible one out of us four. you are too, so i guess that bumps it up to two out of five. _

_Yuuri: Victor?_

_ Mila Babicheva: ah, that’s right, you still think he makes good life choices! _

_Yuuri: I-- I don’t know how to comment on that._

_ Mila Babicheva: i know we haven’t known each other for very long, but i can tell you’re very sweet. _

_Yuuri: Uh huh._

_ Mila Babicheva: victor’s kind of... well, you’ll see him soon enough. _

_Yuuri: But, he’s not competing at Rostelecom?_

_ Mila Babicheva: not rostelecom, silly. barcelona! _

_Yuuri: But, I might not qualify for Barcelona? We won’t know till Rostelecom, which is weeks from now. And anything could happen. What if I get murdered? Or crash in a car accident?_

_ Mila Babicheva: yura was not kidding when he says you worry. _

_Yuuri: Obviously!_

_ Mila Babicheva: well, let’s just not think about that, yeah? and trust me, you’ll qualify. you’re on fire! _

_Yuuri: What if my rink burns down?!_

_ Mila Babicheva: alright, let’s change the subject! _

_ Mila Babicheva: tell me how you and yura met! i’m always looking for stories to embarrass him with. did he yell? i bet he yelled. _

_Yuuri: Oh! Well, we met at Sochi!_

Yuuri liked to talk about Yuri. It was something he could easily do, a plethora of stories easily rolling off the tongue. Sure, he occasionally played a part, but his position mainly consisted of observing and relaying information on someone else. He was firmly on the other side, a simple storyteller sharing experiences with others.

Plus, it was _Yuri_. Yuuri knows him like the back of his hand, like he was a part of his soul, warm and familiar. Yuuri hated talking about himself, but would gladly share stories about his friends and family.

Talking to Mila was nice as well. She had mannerisms similar to Yuri, though you wouldn’t be able to tell at first. It was less the way they acted and more so the way they _reacted_. They both snap and go off on angry tangents, though Yuri’s are more genuine anger and Mila simply affrontedness. 

Yuuri felt at ease talking to the Russian skater. In fact, most of Yakov’s skaters were easy to talk to, save for perhaps Victor, being, well, _Victor Nikiforov_. Maybe it was because of how they all acted, larger-than-life personalities that managed to stay just grounded enough. Yuuri was always good at interacting with more outgoing people, like Mari and Yukko and _especially_ Phichit.

So really, it was no surprise that he got along well with Yuri. And once you managed to befriend him, Georgi and Mila were a piece of cake.

_ Mila: oh! should i add you to our chat? _

_Yuuri: Hmm? What chat?_

_ Mila: we have a group chat, for all of yakov’s skaters! _

_Yuuri: Should I be allowed to join then?_

_ Mila: trust me, you’ll fit right in. here! _

Yuuri shrugs, accepting the invite that pops up without much thought. Then he remembers who exactly “Yakov’s skaters” entails, and never before have his fingers flown across the screen faster than now, as he hurries to beg Mila to kick him out, block him, _anything_ to make sure he doesn’t join.

That didn’t pan out too well. Yuuri squeezes his eyes shut, contemplating just how expensive it would be to replace his phone if he threw it across the room.

As a flurry of messages comes rushing in from the other skaters, Yuuri sucks in a deep breath, exhaling as he briefly tries to review his Russian before replying.

It was… nice. Yuuri was already decently comfortable with Mila and Georgi, and of course, Yuri was there. They mainly argued amongst themselves, poking fun at each other and spitting remarks to and fro. Victor tried to join in, but mainly got shot down by all three. Yuuri settles back into his bed, laughing to himself as he texts back a reply.

Maybe he didn’t exactly fit with the other skaters, but that was okay. What he had now would be enough.

\- - - -

“Good job, Yuuri!” Celestino says, handing him his water bottle. “One more pass and then you’re done for the day.”

“Thank you, Coach.” Yuuri pants, happily accepting the water. Phichit comes up behind him, tossing a towel over his head. Yuuri jumps, startling before grabbing said towel and chucking it back.

“Hey, that’s not fair!”

“You threw it at me first!”

Celestino chuckles, shaking his head as Phichit sticks his tongue out at Yuuri. “Alright you two, settle down. Phichit, we all saw you throw it first.”

“I refuse to comment on that.”

“Uh-huh.” Celestino pats the Thai skater on the back, leading him back to the bleachers. “Well, at any rate, you’re finished for now. Unless you want to help the juniors?”  
Phichit’s eyes light up, and he’s quick to jump up to his feet. “Yes! I love watching them skate! Can I take pictures?”

“You’d have to ask them,” Celestino shrugs. “But I’m sure they’d agree.”

Pumping his fist in the air, Phichit grabs his bag, rummaging through until he finds his phone, a hamster charm dangling from the end. He slides off his skate guards, placing them on the barrier before stepping onto the ice, spinning around.

“Careful,” Yuuri laughs. “You don’t want to hurt yourself.”

“Don’t worry about me, focus on your own programs!” Phichit grins. He glides away, calling out to the group of juniors who were huddled together on the other side of the rink.

Yuuri takes off his own skate guards, neatly arranging them alongside Phichit’s. He gets onto the ice, straightening his earbuds as the music starts.

The movements and choreography are familiar at this point, smooth and well-polished, weathered from months of practice. Yuuri’s been told that it feels like he moves with the music, and for once, he feels as if he’s living up to that expectation.

And yet, something still feels off. He still felt stilted, chained down by _something_. The music comes to a stop, leaving Yuuri feeling unsatisfied. 

The sound of clapping snaps him out of his thoughts. Yuuri looks up to see Phichit and the juniors applauding, Celestino nowhere to be found. Phichit skates up to him, wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder.

“I thought you were supposed to be helping them,” Yuuri says, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“They can learn from example!” Phichit replies, a group of nodding junior skaters behind him.

“Whatever you say,” the Japanese skater huffs, rolling back his shoulders. “Where’s Coach Celestino?”

“Ah, that’s, um.” Phichit looks away, refusing to lock eyes with Yuuri.

“Phichit? What’s going on?”

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it!” Phichit nervously laughs. Suddenly, he perks up, pointing over to the doorway at the side of the rink, where Celestino’s office sits. “Look, there he is! Thank goodness.”

Sure enough, there was Celestino, his head hanging out past the doorway. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of Phichit and the juniors, shooing them away. Phichit simply laughs it off, snapping a picture of a surprised Yuuri before skating away again.

Celestino sighs, watching Phichit go with a smile on his face before turning back to Yuuri, who was watching their interactions with an anxious look on his face. Celestino raises an arm, beckoning him closer.

“Yuuri, can we talk?”

\- - - -

Bonus:

_Hag has added Unnamed to Yakov’s Nightmare_

**Old Man:** huh? Mila, who’s this?

 **Hag:** someone fun!

 **Parrot:** Yuuri!

 **Kitten:** Katsudon?

 **Unnamed:** Um, hi?

 **Parrot:** Yuuri, Yura’s bullying me!

 **Kitten:** am not you liar

 **Old Man:** Georgi, how did you know it was Yuuri?

 **Parrot:** It shows if you click on his name! You know, since it’s connected to his phone number?

 **Old Man:** you have his phone number?

 **Parrot:** Don’t we all?

 **Kitten:** ha, no

 **Kitten:** only you and i should

 **Kitten:** which is why i’m very curious as to how she got it

 **Hag:** hehe, you’ll never find out!

 **Unnamed:** Phichit gave it to her.

 **Old Man:** so now everyone but me has his number?

 **Kitten:** you’re very hung up on this number thing

_Kitten has renamed Unnamed to Katsudon_

**Katsudon:** Should I just go by Yuuri? Only you call me Katsudon.

 **Kitten:** no

 **Kitten:** you’re Katsudon

 **Kitten:** besides, everyone knows who you are

 **Parrot:** That’s true! It’s all Yura ever calls you.

 **Hag:** isn’t he the cutest?

 **Kitten:** shut up

 **Hag:** aww, don’t be like that yurochka~

 **Kitten:** call me that again and I’ll smite you

 **Katsudon:** Please don’t smite people.

 **Old Man:** Yuuri, you speak russian?

 **Katsudon:** I learnt it as a child! I can’t really speak it though, I’m better at reading and listening.

 **Kitten:** unfortunately

 **Parrot:** You don’t like that he learned Russian?

 **Kitten:** i don’t like the reason behind it

 **Parrot:** Ah, young love.

 **Kitten:** disgusting

 **Hag:** young love? ooh, did you have a russian crush?

 **Katsudon:** We are not talking about this.

 **Old Man:** who was it? i don’t remember any prominent russian skaters.

 **Old Man:** do i know them?

 **Kitten:** no no no

 **Old Man:** well, i think you’re lovely, Yuuri!

 **Old Man:** anyone would be lucky to have you!

 **Katsudon:** Ah, thank you!

 **Kitten:** so, Katsudon, let’s move on from this

 **Kitten:** why are you here

 **Katsudon:** Ask Mila, I also don’t know why.

 **Hag:** i thought it would be nice!

 **Parrot:** You don’t know?

 **Kitten:** you do?

 **Parrot:** Yeah, didn’t Yakov tell you?

 **Kitten:** no?

 **Parrot:** Oh… Am I allowed to tell you?

 **Hag:** don’t do it! i want it to be a surprise!

 **Kitten:** if you don’t tell me i’ll rip your song booklet to shreds

 **Parrot:** Why must you insist on being so violent? And leave my songs out of this! 

**Kitten:** no

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! (And for the kudos and comments, I realize I haven't thanked all you lovely folks for that!)
> 
> Okay, I have to explain something really quickly. Mila is not a Russian name. It's a diminutive, like Yura or Vitya. Generally, it's fine, since most of the skaters are older than her. The problem comes when she has to introduce herself and when Yuri talks to her. I don't know her actual name, and I didn't want to make one up. So, we'll just say she's overly friendly? Or maybe she just doesn't like her given name? 
> 
> The bigger issue is Yuri. Since he's younger, he would refer to her by her given name, except _I don't know what that is_. You see my problem? I'm just going to have him never actually call her by her name, and then fix it in the previous chapters later on. There's also the problem that I don't know if Victor and Georgi would refer to each other with diminutive because they're the same age, and if Yuuri would because technically he's younger but still old enough to just be their peer and I really just need someone to explain Russian diminutive to me, please and thank you.
> 
> I know that in this fic I use bold for Russian and that the texting is usually all italicized with one person underlined, but I don't know how exactly I was supposed to do that for what, like five people? That's why it's a bonus. Originally, it was just in the chapter itself, but trying to figure out the formatting with all those people hurt my brain.
> 
> It sounds weird that you could be better at listening to a language than speaking it, but it's a thing. I don't know if it's a scientific thing specifically, but it definitely happens in real life, speaking from personal experience. Yuuri listened to and read a lot of Russian videos and articles, so that's why he's more skilled in those areas.
> 
> Okay, I know this is a pretty long end note (when is it not?), but I want to explain their texting styles, so you can call me out if I make a mistake. Yuuri and Georgi text with proper capitalization and punctuation, Yuri texts with no capitalization and no punctuation (except he capitalizes Katsudon), Mila doesn't capitalize but uses punctuation, and Victor does the same except he capitalizes names. Ignore the previous chapters, I'll fix them soon.


	27. Keep On Burning My Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Coach? What’s wrong with Katsuki?”
> 
> “Ha! Don’t worry about him, he’s just excited.”
> 
> “Katsuki? That excited for a _competition_?”
> 
> “Not just a competition, Xavier. Think about where we are right now.”
> 
> “Um, Russia?”
> 
> “And who lives in Russia?”
> 
> “Russian people? Coach, I don’t get where this is-- _oh_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Kinda in a rush, I’ll fix everything in a couple of hours. I wanted to write more but I felt bad for not posting already, so there might be some other chapter up in a day or so regarding Yakov and all that fun things. Enjoy! (Note: Everything should be good now!)
> 
> No cars were crashed in the making of this chapter.
> 
> Not edited.

Rostelecom couldn’t come soon enough.

Of course, since it was Yuuri, and the universe hates him, he’s forced to wait weeks till it was time. During that waiting time, he throws himself into work, training hard from morning to afternoon and spending his evenings frantically researching at his desk, preparing for what may be one of the biggest decisions of his life.

Yuuri ends up seated next to Lilly, one of the pair skaters Celestino coaches. She seems even more nervous than him, mindlessly rambling about whatever crosses her mind. Yuuri lets that distract him, but near the end of the flight he starts to see buildings, reminding him once more just where they were going.

By the time they land in Moscow, Yuuri is eager to get off the plane. He fiddles around with his sleeves while their group leaves their terminal and heads for the outside of the airport. There’s so much he needs to do, to see, not to mention there was still an actual _competition_ going on.

Celestino, having caught on to his mood, waves him off just as they’re about to board the bus, taking Yuuri’s suitcase from him. “Go on, I know you want to. You said he was landing here in a couple of minutes?

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asks hesitantly, though he’s already shifted his backpack into a more comfortable position, ready to bolt off at a moment’s notice.

“I’m sure, Yuuri.” Celestino laughs. Yuuri barely remembers to wave before he opens the door, heading back inside the airport.

“Coach? What’s wrong with Katsuki?”

“Ha! Don’t worry about him, he’s just excited.”

“Katsuki? That excited for a _competition_?”

“Not just a competition, Xavier. Think about where we are right now.”

“Um, Russia?”

“And who lives in Russia?”

“Russian people? Coach, I don’t get where this is-- _oh_.”

Celestino laughs once more. “I think you can connect the dots from there.”

\- - - -

“Katsudon!”

Before Yuuri could turn around, he feels a heavy pressure suddenly drop onto his back and arms wrap around his neck. Yuuri laughs, recognizing the familiar blue and red striped sleeves.

“I see you’re in a good mood.”

“We finally get to compete together, what do you think?” Yuri gets down, immediately latching onto his sleeve, tugging him towards a blue car. “Come meet my grandfather.”

“Are Yakov and Mila here yet?”

“I’m sure they’re somewhere in Russia.”

“That could mean a number of things I don’t want it to mean, Yura,”

Yuri gestures his hands towards the direction opposite of where they were going. “They’re over there. She’s been bugging him to let her go shopping for ages now.”

They stop in front of an old man wearing a long, thick coat. He holds out his hand, and Yuuri grasps it, startling a bit at the tight grip. The man stares right into his eyes, but Yuuri can’t look away, frozen in place.

At last, he loosens his grips, nodding at Yuuri. Towards Yuri, his gaze softens, and he lays a hand on his shoulder. “ ** _Is this your friend?_** ”

Yuri nods, bouncing on the heels of his feet. He keeps his grip on the sleeve of Yuuri’s jacket, twisting it around his finger in order to get Yuuri’s attention. “He doesn’t speak much English.”

“Oh! Well, my Russian is… _something_. I can still try,” Yuuri offers, letting out a laugh as Yuri grimaces. “I should be able to understand him just fine, though!”

“I hate Victor,” the blonde murmurs, crossing his arms.

“Sure you do.” Yuuri shakes his head, tousling the back of Yuri’s head. He then turns to Yuri’s grandfather and bows. “ ** _It’s nice to meet you! Yura speaks of you a lot._** ”

“ ** _Really?_** ” the elder chuckles, demeanor much more friendly than what he first came off as. “ ** _You’re the one I can’t seem to stop hearing about. Yurochka’s very fond of you_**.”

“ _ **Dedushka!**_ ” Yuri hisses, cheeks coloring a pale pink. “ _ **I talk about other people too.**_ ”

“ _ **He’s the only one you talk about in favor, though.**_ ” Yuri’s grandfather corrects. “ _ **Whenever it’s anyone else it’s always ‘Victor has no class’ or ‘Georgi tried to fill the rink with roses’. You need more friends, Yurochka.**_ ”

_**“ _ **I have plenty of friends!** _”__** _

_**__“ _ **No you don’t. I would have heard about them otherwise.**_ ”_ _ ** _

Yuri tries to sputter out a reply, but ends up hiding behind Yuuri, his forehead resting on Yuuri’s upper back. “ _ **Katsudon, help.**_ ” 

“ _ **You do need more people to interact with.**_ ” Yuuri muses as Yuri’s grandfather nods. “ _ **I’d suggest someone your age, but because the other Senior skaters are much older, and you don’t want to acknowledge junior skaters, that doesn’t seem to be a possibility.**_ ” 

_**__“ _ **Teenagers are terrible people.**_ ”_ _ ** _

_**__“ _ **Yura, in case you’ve forgotten, you’re also a teenager.**_ ”_ _ ** _

Yuri’s grandfather laughs, unlocking his car with the press of a button. It clicks open, and he gestures for Yuuri to go inside. “ _ **Come, I’ll drive you two to the hotel. I brought pirozhkis; they’re in the back for you two.**_ ”

From behind him, Yuuri can feel Yuri perk up, and the blonde leans his head out, his interest piqued. “ _ **Pirozhkis?**_ ” 

He drags Yuuri into the car, sitting in the back with him. They’re pressed up together in the small space, and Yuuri shifts his positioning so that he can lean comfortably against Yuri, who is eagerly opening a paper bag emitting a warm smell. 

He pulls out a pirozhki, a soft bun with a golden crust. Yuri hands one to Yuuri before pulling out another for himself, biting into it. On the inside, Yuuri can spot a meat filling, what seems to be beef mixed with a selection of chopped vegetables. 

“ _ **Dedushka, have you ever had katsudon before?**_ ” Yuri asks, wrapping his arms around the paper bag, which is now sitting in his lap. 

_**__“ _ **Yurochka, this is why you have no friends. You can’t eat others.**_ ”_ _ ** _

Yuuri can’t help but laugh as Yuri huffs, furiously sinking his teeth and tearing off parts of his pirozhki. 

“ _ **Katsudon is also a meal from my country.**_ ” Yuuri explains. “ _ **It’s a rice dish with a pork cutlet and egg. My mother usually adds some vegetables as well.**_ ” 

“ _ **It tastes good.**_ ” Yuri says, but doesn’t add any more to the conversation, too caught up on finishing his food. 

_**__“ _ **It’s my favorite. I made it for Yura once and he really liked it.**_ ”_ _ ** _

“ _ **Really?**_ ” Yuri’s grandfather hums, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “ _ **Tell me about the pork cutlet.**_ ” 

Yuuri’s eyes light up, and he tries his best to explain, through his limited vocabulary, how to make pork cutlets. He often helped his mother in the kitchen when he was younger, picking up tips and skills in the cooking that he didn’t get to share often. 

It wasn’t like he hadn't tried to, though, especially when he was living with Phichit. Unfortunately, the aforementioned Thai skater couldn’t be trusted to boil water properly, let alone prep and cook a dish. Besides, Phichit much preferred taking pictures of his food rather than making it, leaving it to Yuuri to do the cooking on the occasion they didn’t just order takeout or eat at the school cafeteria. 

As for Yuri, he spoke about being interested, and was helpful enough on the rare occasion that they find themselves in a kitchen, but there just weren’t enough opportunities for Yuuri to properly have at it, since they always met in the midst of competition or when Yuuri stayed in a hotel. 

It was one of the reasons why Yuuri was excited about moving to, well, _here_. He and Yuri would be much closer, and see each other much more often, leading to more time for them to do non-skating related things. 

_Speaking of…_

“Yura, has Yakov mentioned anything to you?” Yuuri murmurs softly, not wanting to distract the driver up front. 

Yuri peers up at him confused, shaking his head. His hair flies along his face as he does, brushing against Yuuri’s shoulder. “About what? I don’t think he’s said anything out of the ordinary.” 

“Ah, I suppose it was nothing then.” 

Humming, Yuri slides downward, tilting his head to rest on Yuuri’s side. “Don’t worry about it. Yakov likes you, so he probably isn’t out to get you.” 

Yuuri chuckles to himself. “Well, not in that sense." 

“Hm?” 

“Just some word play. How was the trip here?" 

Yuri recounts the short plane ride they took from St. Petersburg to Moscow. As he speaks, his eyes start to flutter close, and his words slur together until he’s mumbling in a mix of English and Russian. Finally, he falls asleep, soft puffs of breath replacing his speech. 

Just in time, as well, since Yuuri’s phone buzzes with a notification from Mila. 

_ Mila: hey! you with yura rn? he’s still alive, right? _

_Yuuri: Is there any reason he shouldn’t be?_

_ Mila: plenty of reasons! _

_Mila: that we are not going to talk about because you are going to spiral_

_Yuuri: I don’t spiral!_

_Mila: sure you don’t._

_Mila: anyways, did your coach tell you yet?_

_Yuuri: About the coaching situation?_

_Mila: finally! I was starting to think that he’d never get to it._

_Mila: yakov told me to tell you to go find him when you guys get here_

_Yuuri: Will do! You guys are headed for the hotel, right?_

_Mila: yup! see you there!_

Just in time, as well, since they’re currently slowing down, pulling up into a parking lot hosting a series of other cars as well. Yuri’s grandfather unlocks the car doors, craning his head to look at his sleeping grandson in the back. 

“ _ **Help me wake him up, will you?**_ ” he asks Yuuri. “ _ **I’ll get his bag.**_ " 

****

****

Yuuri nods, setting his phone aside. He brushes Yuri’s hair back, settling a hand on his shoulder. Careful to not harm him, he shakes Yuri, smiling when he sees the teen blinking awake. 

“Yura,” Yuuri says, tone soft and low. “We’re here." 

“We are?” 

Yuuri watches as Yuri sits up, rubbing his eyes with his arm. “Mhm. Ready to meet up with Mila and Coach Yakov?” 

“No.” 

Laughing, Yuuri opens the car door on his right, stepping out before gesturing for Yuri to do the same. He spots Yuri’s grandfather struggling to open the trunk and quickly steps in. 

“ _ **I can help, sir!”**_ ” 

“ _ **I’m fine, just need to—**_ " Suddenly, a cracking sound fills the air, and Yuri’s grandfather hunches over, rubbing his back. " _ **Perhaps I could use a little assistance.**_ ” 

Yuuri lifts up the hood, revealing the familiar suitcase and skate bag that Yuri uses. He pulls them out just as Yuri gets out of the car, hurrying over to his grandfather’s side.

“ _ **Dedushka! Are you alright?**_ ” he asks, hands hovering over his grandfather in an attempt to help. He gets waved off with a hearty laugh as Yuri’s grandfather straightens up once more, holding onto the car for support.

“ _ **I’ll be fine, Yurochka. Thank your friend for helping me get your belongings.**_ ”

“ _ **Of course he helped,**_ ” Yuri says, face lighting up with a proud smile. “ _ **Katsudon’s the best.**_ ”

“ _ **It was no big deal, really!**_ ” Yuuri rolls his shoulders back before sliding Yuri’s skate bag around one of them. He slides the suitcase over to Yuri, who stops it from bumping into him, lifting up the handle.

“ _ **Still, I am thankful.**_ ” To his grandson, Yuri’s grandfather wraps an arm around him, pulling him close. “ _ **Good luck tomorrow, Yurochka.**_ ”

“ _ **I don’t need luck, I’m going to win.**_ ” Even so, Yuri is smiling, his eyes shining with youthful joy. He hugs his grandfather tightly before stepping back, allowing the elder to lean on the side of the car.

“ _ **Good luck to you as well, Yuuri. And thank you for taking such good care of Yurochka for me.**_ ”

He holds out his hand for Yuuri to shake once more. This time, Yuuri isn’t afraid. He locks eyes with the older man, giving him a wide smile. “ _ **The pleasure is all mine! Yura’s very dear to me, so it isn’t a hassle.**_ ”

“ _ **It’s alright, you don’t have to lie.**_ ”

“ _ **Dedushka!**_ ”

Yuri’s grandfather walks them to the hotel entrance before waving them inside. Yuri offers to go back with him, but he refuses, pushing him through the hotel doors.

“ _ **Go on! Come visit me sometime! Bring your friend too, if he wants to tag along!**_ ”

Yuuri checks in, having booked a room outside of Celestino’s group. He waits for Yuri to get his card as well before ushering him up the elevator. “What room are you in?”

“Um, 306.” Yuri mutters half-heartedly. He seems to be somewhere else, eyes staring into the distance at everything and nothing. Yuuri rests his hands on Yuri’s shoulders, guiding him through the unfamiliar halls so as to not bump into anything.

“I’m in 308!”

“That’s close…”

Yuri’s brows are drawn together, wrinkling the skin between his eyes. Yuuri runs a thumb over pale skin, smoothing it out. “Yura, is something wrong?”

“Did you mean it?”

“Hm? Mean what?”

The blonde’s cheeks flush with color, and he reaches back to pull his hood over his head. That, combined with his ducked head, obscures his features, leaving Yuuri staring at a somewhat round, somewhat lumpy mass of cotton with a puzzled expression.

“Back when we were with Dedushka, you said…” Yuri drifts off, tugging at his drawstrings. “Forget it.”

When they were with Yuri’s grandfather? Suddenly, it clicks into place for him.

“Oh Yura,” he sighs, tone fond and sweet and meant solely for Yuri, drawing the other skater in. “Whatever am I going to do with you?”

“We could skate?”

Yuuri laughs, pushing back the black hood to reveal Yuri, hair mussed up and sticking out at odd ends. He combs his fingers through the ever-growing strands, humming as Yuri’s arms come up to wrap around his waist and his forehead rests near Yuuri’s collarbones.

“Of course I care about you.” Yuuri murmurs. “You’re _so_ important to me, more than you know.”

“Promise?”

“Promise!”

“Oh.” Yuri breaks out into a smile, something hesitant and innocent that reminds Yuuri that the person in his arms, no matter the medals or talent or glory, is still a teenager, with enough feelings to practically burst out of his chest. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Yuuri laughs. “You good?”

Yuri nods. He looks up at Yuuri, biting the inside of his cheek. “Katsudon? I…”

He hesitates, dropping his head back down. “Me too.”

Yuuri grins. “I know, Yura.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to hear me ramble, um, come back soon?
> 
> It is now soon. Hi! Originally, Yuri was going to take the train, but the show shows (English is a mess. The _programming_ shows) him somewhere that looks like an airport. Also, Yuri might be able to last as long as he needs to in order to take a ride from St. Petersburg to Moscow with Yakov, Lilia, and Mila. All three do show up in the canon Rostelecom since Yakov's his coach, Lilia was shown doing his hair, and Mila was talking to Sara.
> 
> I actually grinded out like 4k words of stuff for a fic the other day (not this one, another thing I'm working on). Add that to the usual 2k I write per chapter, that's a lot of words. My unfinished fic pile is slowly growing every day, smh. 
> 
> Feelings are so hard to write. I sat in my chair, staring at my screen for a solid 10 minutes trying to figure out how to write something sentimental. This is why this is a comedy fic instead of a romance/more serious one. 
> 
> Speaking of romance, can we talk about how Victor is messing everything up? No offense Victor, you're great, but ahhh, I have to do a bunch of rearranging and eliminating skaters. You'd think it would only be me replacing one of the Barcelona skaters, which is a feat in and of itself, but there's also the fact that skaters qualify for the GPF based on how many points they scored, which is based off on how they placed in the qualifiers. Victor, via existing and obviously placing 1st in both qualifiers, simultaneously bumps some pretty important people down AND makes it that there's one less space, which means they'll need more points. For example, If I just left their placings as it is in canon and only bumped Skate Canada's scores, Yuuri wouldn't qualify. He literally would not qualify, because he and Michelle were tied and it was only because he placed 2nd in Cup of China that he made it to the GPF. Tl;dr: Victor messed everything up, figure skating scores hurt my feelings, see you all later.


	28. Burn the World, Know the Mind Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Files? What does he need files for?”
> 
> Yuuri opens his mouth to reply, but Mila beats him to it. Rather, she kicks him under the table, rendering him speechless long enough for her to gain the advantage. “Just some boring paperwork he wanted to get done.”
> 
> Mila shrugs casually, rolling her shoulders back. She acts as if she doesn’t know the specifics of whatever Yakov is doing, eyes dimming at the mere mention of forms, hand waving the matter aside. You’d never be able to tell she was lying through her teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I think this might be the strangest time I’ve updated? It’s 3:18 A.M. for me right now. There was that one time I updated at around 6, but I feel like that’s a more normal.
> 
> This chapter derailed, I wanted to get to the short program, but my mind said “nope”, and so here we are. Nevertheless, enjoy!
> 
> Before I forget again, thank you to neoncity and their friend for clarifying some diminutive issues I had a few chapters back. I meant to thank you sooner, but ah, my head’s empty. Thank you for all your help!
> 
> The U.S. traffic fatality rate is 12.4 deaths per 100,000 inhabitants. This means no car accidents today!
> 
> Not edited.

“Yuuri! Hey!” Mila waves to him from where she’s seated, sprawled out against a wooden chair. “And little Yurochka, I see you’ve made it here in one piece as well.”

“I hope you burn at the stake,” Yuri grumbles as he and Yuuri sit down across from her. “Where’s Yakov?”

“He went back to go pick up some files he forgot.” Mila taps the side of her head a couple times. It makes a low, heavy sound. “You know, since his head’s gone empty with old age and all.”

“Files? What does he need files for?”

Yuuri opens his mouth to reply, but Mila beats him to it. Rather, she kicks him under the table, rendering him speechless long enough for her to gain the advantage. “Just some boring paperwork he wanted to get done.”

Mila shrugs casually, rolling her shoulders back. She acts as if she doesn’t know the specifics of whatever Yakov is doing, eyes dimming at the mere mention of forms, hand waving the matter aside. You’d never be able to tell she was lying through her teeth.

“Yura, want to go shopping together?” she asks, linking her fingers together in order to rest her chin on top.

“Why would I ever--”

“I’ll buy you leopard print.”

“Done.” Yuri stands, wrapping his jacket tighter around himself. Yuuri starts taking off his, but Yuri shakes his head, pulling the dark colored hood over Yuuri. “Can we get coffee?”

“Whatever you want,” Mila promises. She stands up as well, brushing stray crimson strands of hair out of her face. “You’re going to run me dry.”

“That’s the plan, yes.”

“The things I will do for a good surprise,” she sighs. “Well, whatever. I’ll have Georgi compensate me.”

Yuuri frowns, tilting his head. “But Georgi doesn’t have that much money.”

As soon as he realizes what he’s said, Yuuri claps a hand over his mouth, eyes widening. Mila starts laughing, though whether because of his words or his face Yuuri wasn’t sure. Either way, it was definitely because of something Yuuri had done, and the Japanese skater struggles with the urge to run away, fly off to Iceland, and spend the rest of his days hiding, far away from any skaters.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” the Japanese skater sputters. It seems no one believes him, as Mila keeps laughing and Yuri has a gleeful smirk on his face.

“You have spent way too much time with Yura,” Mila giggles as Yuri huffs, crossing his arms.

“Or he’s just telling the truth.”

“It’s only because he spends it all buying items to try and woo Anya back.”

“I hate Anya,” Yuri mutters. “She’s one of the banes of my existence.”

“Who are the others?”

“Do you really need me to answer that?”

Mila shrugs. “I’m about to spend all my money on you. The least you could do is confirm that you hold me dear to your heart.”

“I’m not fond of lies.” Yuri snorts. He loops a finger around the back of Yuuri’s jacket. “Katsudon, let’s go.”

“Ah, I think I’ll stay here and wait for Coach Yakov.”

“But he’s just doing work.” Yuri wrinkles his nose, looking just as put off at the idea as Mila did. Yuuri laughs, patting Yuri on the shoulder.

“I have something I’d like to ask him,” he explains to the teen, who reluctantly lets go and huffs. “Go have fun with Mila.”

“We’ll get you something pretty!” Mila says, wrapping an arm around Yuri, who sputters and tries to push her away. 

“See you at dinner!” Yuuri waves them off, watching as their silhouettes grow smaller and smaller.

Yakov comes by not long after, dropping into the seat MIla was previously occupying. “Yuuri. It’s good to see you.”

“Good afternoon, Coach! Did you, I mean, there was something you wanted to discuss, right?” Underneath the table, Yuuri laces his fingers together, twisting his wrists in opposite directions. The fingers catch on each other, pulling at his skin and grounding him.

“I’m assuming Cialdini has told you?” Yakov asks, tone gentle. It’s so unlike the scolding rumble that he uses with Yuri, and yet the undertones are the same. Yuuri nods, and Yakov slides a folder across the table, pulling out a sleek fountain pen.

“Very well. Let’s get started, shall we? This won’t take very long.”

\- - - -

Today, Yuuri learned that Yakov could lie, and lie _very_ well.

It had taken three hours just to get all the forms signed, not to mention there were still living arrangements to be discussed and work visas to apply for, and PR, Yuuri was going to have to somehow tell the world, _“Hey, I know I almost quit figure skating and got last in the previous season, but here’s my new coach who has trained multiple world champions!”_.

He was, for lack of a better word, done with the bullshit that is paperwork.

Yakov pats his shoulder consolingly, looking at him with almost a gleam of pity in his eyes. Almost. At the same time, he looks remarkably satisfied with himself, which does nothing but terrify Yuuri even more. What was he planning? Was Yuuri going to die? More importantly, was Yuuri going to be able to keep his dignity _if_ he survives?

“Why don’t you get something to drink?” Yakov offers, straightening out the files by dropping the papers on the table till the bottoms lined up with one another. “Yura and Mila will be here soon.”

“Ah, okay! Do you want anything?”

Yakov raises an eyebrow, looking taken aback. He coughs, grasping at the area near his heart. “That’s very kind of you. Is this a common occurrence?”

“I guess?” Yuuri shrugs. “I get Celestino coffee sometimes.”

Yakov nods, something akin to a proud, albeit small, smile on his face. “Well, I’ll have a black coffee if you don’t mind.”

“Okay!”

Yuuri crosses the street to enter a cozy establishment smelling of pastries and coffee. The line is small enough, and he browses his phone while he waits.

“Um, Katuski-san?”

Behind Yuuri was a familiar face, shaggy dark locks framing a pair of almost black eyes. Compared to all the people surrounding them, Yuuri was ecstatic to see a similar face.

“Hi! We met at the airport, didn’t we? Noah, right?”

Eyes lighting up, Noah nods rapidly, his hair bouncing around. The ends curls at the nape of his neck, brushing against a grey hoodie, reminiscent of the one he wore the last time they met.

“How have you been? You’re here for Rostelecom, right?”

“I’m doing good!” Yuuri laughs. “I’m assuming you came for Rostelecom as well?”

“Yes! I look forward to seeing you and Plisetsky perform.”

“Noah, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?” A voice interrupts from behind the young adult. Noah huffs, puffing out his cheeks despite the obvious excitement in his eyes.

A woman comes to stand behind Noah, ruffling the back of his head with her manicured hand. Her hair, even lighter than Yuri’s blonde, is completely pulled back out of her face and swept across her right shoulder, hiding behind Noah’s shoulder.

“He’s not a stranger!” Noah protests, craning up his head. Although they were most likely the same height, Noah’s slumped posture made the woman tower over him by a few centimeters.

“Sure he’s not. I’ve been with you this entire time, there’s no way you suddenly made a friend.” Though her appearance let her blend in with the rest of the crowd, the way she carried herself was vastly different.

“Look!”

“Look at what? Oh!” Her eyes wander over to Yuuri, and she tightens her grip on Noah’s hair, pulling him back.

“Ow! Hey, what was that for?”

“That’s what you get for running off without me. What if you got lost?” she scolds. Noah doesn’t look the least bit apologetic, instead rubbing his hair with a pout, and she sighs, patting his back.

“There there, don’t be a baby.” 

“I’m not a baby! You’re only like, seven years older!”

She ignores his words, instead holding a hand out towards Yuuri. “Hi, my name’s Nadia! I’m a fan of your skating.”

“Nice to meet you! Um, are you here with Noah?”

Nadia beams. “Of course! Look at him, do you think he could survive without me here?”

“I totally could!”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. I look forward to seeing your routines live, Katsuki!”

“He’s not even your favorite,” Noah sulks. Nadia laughs as he suddenly straightens up, face reddening in embarrassment. “No offense Katsuki-san!”

“None taken.” Yuuri waves off his apologies, watching as the people ahead of them complete their orders. 

“ _ **Welcome, what can I get you?”**_ ”

Yuuri scans over the menu, internally wincing as he comes to terms with the fact that he doesn’t know what half these things are. “ _ **One medium black coffee and one small black tea. And a bag of those, please.**_ ”

“ _ **Pishkis?**_ ” At Yuuri’s nod, the cashier rings him up, calling out the order to another worker.

Noah and Nadia order from the cashier at Yuuri’s right. Well, it’s more Noah tells Nadia what he wants and she relays it to the worker alongside her order. While they wait, Yuuri can’t help himself, curious as to their previous topic of conversation. 

“So, who is your favorite skater then?” he asks Nadia.

“Yuri Plisetsky!”

“Ah, that makes sense. It’s nice to know he has such sweet fans.”

“Yes, well, we aren’t the nicest bunch, but we’re certainly better than _some_ people.”

Noah gasps, hands waving around in the air as he attempts to explain something. “Katsuki-san, you won’t believe the people we met!”

“Hm? What happened?”

“We bumped into JJ fans at our hotel, and they were so rude once they learned we were here to support you and Plisetsky!” Noah says, hands clenching around air in a strangling motion. “I wanted to punch them so badly!”

“Noah’s a bit violent.” Nadia clasps the younger man’s hands between hers, lowering them down. “And yet he can’t kill a single spider.”

“Spiders are scary. Look at all their legs; that’s unnatural!”

“Maybe they were just getting into a competitive mood?” Yuuri offers. Both Noah and Nadia give him an “are you serious” look, and the Japanese skater helplessly shrugs.

“I had brought these croissants, right?” Nadia starts. “Because I was talking about it and Noah wanted to try some. One of them came and took the biggest one, and she didn’t even ask!”

“I wanted that one.” Noah sighs, shoulders slumping down even further. “She ended up spitting it out and throwing the rest in the trash. My croissant…”

“Sweets, I’ll make you some more next time, alright? Stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting!”

Yuuri’s order comes in, and he glances down at the paper bag currently clutched tightly to his chest. He opens it, holding out the bag to the two in front of him, who were currently trying each other’s drink. “It’s no croissant, but you guys can have one if you’d like! I don’t exactly know what they are, but going off the description, it sounds like doughnuts.”

“Really?” Nadia’s eyes light up, and she delicately takes one from the bag, careful not to touch the others. She breaks it in half, handing the bigger piece to Noah. “Here, you’ll like it. They’re called pishkis, my grandmother used to make them for me.”

Noah takes a bite, tongue reaching out to catch stray bits of powdered sugar that threatened to fall to the ground.

“Is it good?”

“Mhm, it’s fluffy. Thank you, Katsuki-san!”

“It’s no big deal!” Yuuri smiles. When he wasn’t busy freaking himself out over everything, he loved interacting with his fans. It felt nice to know he was respected for what he worked so hard in. “Really, I’m glad I could help in some way.”

It is then that Yuuri notices a pair of red and blonde hair headed in the direction of his table. Hastily, he gathers his things, trying his best to juggle two drinks and a bag.

“Ah, I’ve got to go.”

“Oh, okay! Can we take a picture really quick?”

“Sure!”

Yuuri smiles as the camera goes off, sandwiched in the middle of Noah and Nadia. Between the two of them, Yuuri looks much shorter than he actually is, and he mourns his average height.

“It was nice to see you two!”

“You too! Good luck in Rostelecom!”

“Good luck Katsuki-san!”

Yuuri waves them goodbye, hurrying across the street once more to arrive just before Mila and Yuri.

“Coach, I got you your coffee! And this, um, pishki! I think...”

Yuuri looks at Yakov for confirmation, showing him the contents of the bag. When the older man nods, Yuuri all but audibly sighs in relief, handing over the coffee and pastry to him.

“You got me pishki? But I didn’t ask for any.”

Flushing, Yuuri waves his hands around before settling around his own cup of tea. “I thought you might enjoy it, since it’s been a couple of hours and you’ve been working hard.”

Yakov stares at him with an incredulous look that makes Yuuri squirm. At long last, he nods. “You’re too good, Yuuri. You don’t deserve those brats as your neighbors.”

“My what now?”

“There’s an apartment complex near the rink that houses a lot of my skaters,” Yakov explains. “I just asked and they should have an available room for you.”

“Did you just say available room?” A voice calls out from behind Yuuri. Without needing to turn around, he already knows who it is, knows the sharp accent and voice as if it were his own.

“Welcome back! Did you guys have fun?”

Yuri sits down next to him, glaring at Yakov. His arms are crossed and his shoulders hunched in, like he was trying to recoil from them. “Explain the available room.”

“Ah, well, that is—“

“Yuuri’s transferring.” Yakov states, clear and startlingly loud. “Starting next season, I’ll be his coach.”

Mila snickers as Yuri’s mouth hangs open. It attempts to close a few times, but only seems to make him more aggravated.

“Really? You aren’t lying?”

“Why would I be lying? Do you know how long I’ve wanted someone normal on my rooster for?”

“I’m normal!” Mila says, raising her hand. Yakov stares at her before shaking his head.

“Only when compared to the others.”

“So? If you had to pick between me and them, you’d pick me. I’m just superior like that.” Mila tries to toss her hair behind her shoulder, not that it ever reached her shoulders in the first place.

“Katsudon,” Yuri says. He grabs the end of Yuuri’s sleeve, gripping tightly. Yuuri’s afraid the fabric will wrinkle. “You’re going to move to Russia?”

“Surprise?”

“Consider me fully surprised. Then, that paperwork Yakov was doing…” Realization dawns on Yuri, and he suddenly stands up, walking up behind Mila’s seat before yanking on the back of her jacket.

“Hey, is this how you treat the person that just spoiled you rotten?”

“You hag, you knew about this!”

“Of course I knew about this, I know everything! Who do you take me for, Victor?”

Yuri stops, loosening his grip on Mila. Then, he makes what must have been the most frustrated groan Yuuri has heard _ever_.

“Yura? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just—” Yuri glares miserably at the table, looking as if he wanted to pass out, or kill, or somehow do both at the same time. “Victor’s going to be _insufferable_ when he finds out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I was writing this and thought to myself “did I post last week?”. The days are finally starting to blur together into one incoherent mess. Actually, quarantine where I live will turn a year old in about a week, so happy early birthday I guess. 
> 
> You know how Yuri has his hair pulled back in his free skate outfit? That’s what Nadia’s hair looks like, except it’s only the bangs that are pulled, so the rest falls down across her back. 
> 
> To clarify (and to remind myself later on), Noah is Japanese-American and 21. Nadia is Russian-American and 28. Noah’s actually taller than Nadia, but with his posture, he might as well be a dwarf. When I say American I meant like having immigrant parents and being first gen citizens, all that fun jazz.
> 
> Speaking of, visas are the bane of my existence. I don’t need one, but the second experience has left me second handedly traumatized. I tried googling it, but I think athletes moving to Russia need work visas, so I’ll just go with that.
> 
> Victor _is_ going to insufferable later on, but he’s not here now, so ha.


End file.
